


You'll remember me when the west winds move

by xxawalkinwonderlandxx



Series: Fairytales, Myths, and Legends [6]
Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Age difference - she's 17 he's 23, F/M, Greek Mythology AU, Helen!Josephine, Loss of Virginity, Mentions of Blood, Odysseus!Bellamy, Odyssey AU, Penelope!Clarke, a lot of fluff, jk it’s A LOT of smut, mentions of period(s), setting is Ancient Greece, some smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:06:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 46,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26976331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxawalkinwonderlandxx/pseuds/xxawalkinwonderlandxx
Summary: Growing up, Clarke was always told that things were a certain way and she never doubted them. It wasn't until she's married that her husband, King Bellamy of Ithaca, begins to show her that things don't have to be how she was taught. Then, when he's called to war Clarke realizes that it's up to her to save her home, and her family, from the suitors who are threatening to ruin everything that her husband worked so hard to build. But she can do it. She's a queen, after all.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Series: Fairytales, Myths, and Legends [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1655845
Comments: 92
Kudos: 251





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fl_eurydice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fl_eurydice/gifts).



> Okay, so...
> 
> This fic is based heavily on Margret Atwood's "The Penelopiad" which is "The Odyssey" from Penelope's POV. (It's a very good book, highly recommend lol). I just want to say a few things about this story first so you can get an idea of where it's coming from. In "The Penelopiad," Penelope is 15 when she's married to Odysseus but I bumped the age up to 17, and I really tried to get into the head of someone who was raised in these times. So, this story talks about how the wedding night was usually viewed which, as Atwood puts it, "It was supposed to be a conquest, a trampling of a foe, a mock killing. There was supposed to be blood." And the way Clarke describes it/thinks of it makes it seem that way before she actually gets to that time.
> 
> That being said, there's nothing graphic in this, aside from the few mentions of blood that's in the tags, and the smut of course lol 
> 
> Also! A HUGE shoutout to [Lea](https://twitter.com/o_eurydice) for giving me the idea in the first place and then helping me plan this story <3 Without her, this wouldn't be a thing so she really deserves all of the love and praise for this fic <3

The moon is high when Clarke looks out into the water below her, and she follows the coastline to her left to see if there are any more ships docking. When she doesn’t see any, she turns on her heel and makes her way to the bedroom door, grabbing her cloak as she goes. It’s not cold enough outside to where she should have to wear it, but she’s learned that no one really questions it. 

Her footsteps are silent as she makes her way down the hall and towards the staircase, and no one she passes gives her a second look. Once she’s out of the castle, she makes her way down the dirt path and towards the gardens so she can slip away to the part of the coastline that no one seems to visit. She’s come here a lot over the years, but she can never bring herself to get into the water. Not after what happened with her mother.

When she’s comfortably on the sand and close enough to the rocks where she’s sure no one else would be able to see her, she pulls her hood down and looks around. If anyone were to see her without her maids then it would cause an uproar, especially with the father’s of the competitors. Afterall, why would they want their sons to wed someone who would throw away propriety without a second thought? Sighing, Clarke gathers her skirts and sits down then takes off her shoes, and curls and uncurls her toes in the sand. 

It’s still warm from the sun having shined on it all day, and she looks out at the water, wondering if it’s warm, too. The white moonlight breaks into shards on the moving water, disappearing before she can see the full shape of it. _What would happen if I walked into it?_ With her mother being a water nymph, she should be more comfortable wading in the ocean, but she isn’t. After that time when she was younger and her mother dropped her off the cliff, she’s never been able to bring herself to touch it. She doesn’t blame her mother, necessarily, since her mother seems unconcerned with nearly everything and would prefer to pass her time with the clams and crabs, but she would be lying if she said it didn’t affect her. When her father found out, even he told her that her mother hadn’t meant it, but whenever the two of them went on walks she couldn’t help but wonder if he would drop her, too.

Clarke digs her fingers into the sand then lifts her hand and watches as the tan grains fall back to the ground. She knows she’ll probably never be able to do this again after tomorrow, so she wants to enjoy it while she can. The sound of the water hitting the rocks further down the beach drowns out the sounds of everyone at the docks, and Clarke tilts her head back and up towards the moon. Her cousin, Josephine, has compared her skin to the moonlight, saying that Clarke should want at least some color to her face so her future husband wouldn’t think that she’s sick, but Clarke never understood why.

Whenever she’s in the sun she burns rather quickly which is something she’s come to avoid over the years, but she can stay out in the moonlight for however long she likes without having to worry. As she looks, she begins to wonder if she can make out the lady that her father always told her about. _When you look up at the moon, remember that it belongs to the goddess Artemis. Sometimes, you can even see her._

She tries to look now, but she can’t make anything out that would suggest the goddess is there. After all, it’s a wonderful night, why should she want to spend her time looking down on the world when she could join it? The waves crashing on the shore brings her gaze back down to the land, and she focuses on the contrasting colors in front of her. The pale light on the moon spreading across the black color of the water makes the ocean seem even more menacing then she already thought. But, still, she gets an idea. 

Taking a deep breath, Clarke stands, curling her toes in the sand as she walks towards the water’s edge. She stops where the wet sand meets the dry, and looks down. The waves rush up, stopping just before her toes and then it goes back. It comes in, and goes back out. In and out. Over and over again until Clarke can feel something inside of her pulling her forward. 

When she steps, the cold water rushes up and over her feet, and she sucks in a breath before it goes away again. It’s colder than she expected it to be, but then again she hasn’t been in it in a very long time. She takes another step, feeling the wet sand sticking to the bottom of her feet before the water comes up to wash over them again. _It’s not so bad_. She lifts up her dress and takes another step, then another, until the water is around her ankles. She could go further, but this is fine for now.

The thought of how vast the ocean is comes into her mind, and she begins to think of all of the monsters that lurk beneath its surface. Like the monsters that her father would tell her about, and her mother, on a few occasions. When she looks down, she can see tiny, silver fish swimming around her feet, their scales reflecting the moonlight. _Well, they don’t seem to be scared. Do they?_

“Late night swim?” A deep voice calls from behind her, and Clarke stiffens. Her hood isn’t on, so she can’t very well turn around and talk to the man standing behind her. If she did, he would know who she is, but if she doesn’t… “I’m sorry, am I intruding?”

“I would say so, yes.” Her voice comes out harder than she expected, but if she can make it clear that he is, in fact, interrupting her, then maybe he’ll leave her alone. 

“My apologies. I was just on a walk, and I happened to see you.” 

Being caught up in trying to figure out how she can get out of this situation, Clarke isn’t paying attention to the waves and a larger one crashes into her, soaking her up to her knees. She gasps as the cold water causes her dress to stick to her legs, and she moves to head back to the beach, keeping her head down. 

“Do you need help?” The man’s voice sounds even closer now, and she can see him move towards her out of the corner of her eye.

“No, I do not.” She reaches down and picks up her shoes, and as she stands she pulls her hood up and over her face. When she can see that the hood is casting a shadow over her, she finally turns her attention to the man standing a little bit away, and her breath catches.

His hair is dark, as dark as the night sky behind him, and it curls at the ends. Like ink being placed on paper. His skin is golden, dark and tan, and there are freckles... _he looks like he could be one of the gods_. His clothes look bright against his skin, and since they don’t cover his arms, she can see just how strong he must be. And she notices that there is an apple in his left hand. _He must be here for the competition_. _If he is..._

“Thank you, for your concern, but I’m fine.” Clarke lifts her chin as she looks at him, pulling her shoulders back and standing straight how she was taught. But really, she’s not fine. She’s freezing now, and it feels like there’s a slight breeze that is not helping her situation. 

“Are you sure?” The guy raises an eyebrow at her. “You seem cold.”

“I am not. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She moves to go around him, but his hand comes out and brushes against her arm and she halts. _No one is supposed to touch me_.

“Please, let me walk you back.” 

Clarke looks at him over her shoulder. He doesn’t seem like the type of man she’s been told about, but that does not mean that his looks can’t be deceiving. His eyebrows are furrowed together and his lips are pressed into a thin line as he looks at her. _He looks like he cares_. 

“Thank you, but no. You should get back to your men.” And with that, Clarke starts down the beach, acting as if she’s going to head into the city but when she turns around another formation of rocks she changes direction and climbs through the bushes before making her way back to the garden. 

By the time she’s comfortably back into her room, her dress has dried considerably and so have her legs, but she still shivers as she changes. _I will never get into the water ever again_. She doesn’t even know what possessed her to do it tonight, but _never again_. She climbs under the blankets, willing herself to stop shaking as she blows out the candle on her bedside table. 

Tomorrow, she’ll need to be well-rested and not tired on her feet, but even if she hadn’t gone down to the water she knows she would still be awake. Tomorrow will be a big day, and she’s never been good at sleeping before big events. She huddles under her blankets even more, curling in on herself as she closes her eyes. It takes some time, but eventually she falls asleep, but not without seeing the white light of the moon and golden skin.

~

Clarke opens her eyes to the feeling of the sun washing over her and the smell of the salt of the water drifting into her room past her draperies. Like any other day, the sun is bright and the sounds of the seagulls flying overhead waiting for their next meal fills the air but, unlike all of the ones before it, this day is different. _Today is the contest_ , she whispers to herself silently. _Today is the day you will meet your husband_. It’s not a comforting thought, knowing that today will be the day she looks at a complete stranger and marries them hours from this moment, but it’s what is expected of her. 

It’s what’s always been expected of her from the moment she was born.

Sitting up, the white sheets pool around her waist and she pulls her braid over her shoulder, deftly undoing the twine that’s been wrapped around the end and running her fingers through her hair. Before long, her maids will come in, placing her in the best gown she owns and covering her face with a veil so that no one else will see it until she is alone with her husband. That makes her feel a little better, though. Knowing that no one will be able to see her expression at any point throughout the entire exchange.

She can hear the sound of the people milling around throughout the hallway outside of her room, and she slides out of her bed and walks towards the window. In the courtyard below, there are many servants moving around as they prepare the grounds for the competition, but none of them see her looking down on them. She prefers that way, though, because it means she’s able to observe others without causing them to question her.

“Princess?” One of the maid’s voices comes through the thick door, and she turns towards it as it opens. In walks Harper, her closest maid in age and the one that she has the best relationship with, followed by the maids of her mother. “Oh, you’re awake. We need to get you ready for the ceremony.”

Clarke sighs softly as she looks out the window again, making sure to stay hidden behind the dark cloth. “How terrible would it be if my mother dropped me into the ocean again?”

“Princess, you shouldn’t speak that way,” Harper says as she reaches out to gather Clarke’s hair in her hands. “There are many great suitors coming to compete today.”

The mention of the suitors, or as Clarke liked to think of them, hunters, sends the rest of the maids into a frenzy, talking about which boats they saw arrive and which men they believed would win. Clarke, however, tunes all of them out in favor of thinking about the man she met last night. 

“If you’re lucky, he’ll pass out before he can touch you and you’ll be saved a night,” one of the maids says, and that’s when Clarke realizes that she’s being spoken to.

“I doubt that, she’s untouched. You know men can never help themselves,” another one, Marina, snickers, and she can feel her face heat up.

“I doubt that whatever man wins her hand would be so cruel,” Harper says sharply. “They very well can’t hurt her with her father willing to throw them out.”

Clarke sends a silent thanks to her friend when their eyes meet, but even with Harper’s reassurance, it doesn’t help much. She knows the stories, she’s heard them multiple times, even Josephine told her how Menelaus had taken her before he could even get her undressed. And she didn’t leave out many details. 

Clarke stays silent as the maids bathe and work on her, and when they’re finished she stands and walks back towards the window. The men that have come to fight for her hand are lined up now, all of them wearing their best attire. She scans the group, wondering if the man she met the night before is among them, but her hopes fall when she doesn’t see him. _Maybe I was wrong_. She goes to move away from the window when one of the other maids chuckles.

“Oh, King Bellamy Blake is here.”

 _King Bellamy Blake?_ Clarke turns back to peer down at the courtyard again, and there, standing in the middle of the group of guys now is the one she met last night. His black, curly hair looks even more wild now than it did then, and without anything covering his chest, she realizes just how muscular he is. 

“Who?” Clarke asks, even though everyone knows _of_ him, she wants to make sure it’s the man from the beach. 

“There,” Harper points, “the guy with the black hair. He was at the competition for Josephine’s hand.”

 _Of course, he was_ . Pain spears through her heart even though she knows it shouldn’t. Every available man across the country is supposed to show up when a princess is to be wed, so it makes sense that he would be there. But, it doesn’t help the sting that if he does win, he would probably always wish to have married Josephine. _Everyone wishes they could have married Josephine_. 

“I don’t know what he’s doing here,” one of the other maids says, sounding bored, “he’s shorter than almost all of the other men. How could he possibly win a race? Though, with his trickery, he could cheat—”

“You could say the same about Finn Collins being too short,” Harper points out, “but you haven’t.”

“Collins is known for his hunting expertise, he would be able to outrun Blake if he can chase down a deer.”

“Now, did he chase it down or did he kill it with a spear?” Harper raises an eyebrow at the other women, and they glare at her. 

The door to the room opens again, and Clarke turns to find her cousin, Josephine, strolling towards her. Josephine is wearing a white dress with gold trimming, and one of the most beautiful necklaces Clarke’s ever seen hanging around her throat.

“There’s my dear cousin.” Josephine smiles. “Don’t you look radiant.”

“Thank you, Josephine.” Clarke smiles slightly, but her veil covers it.

“Are you admiring the competitors?” Josephine walks towards the window and looks down from it. She’s in full view of the people of the courtyard, but Clarke knows that that’s what she prefers. She loves being the center of attention. “I must say, there are a few good men down there fighting for your hand. And King Bellamy Blake has made an appearance.” Her cousin smiles brightly as she waves down at the crowd, and Clarke gets the sudden urge to push her out the window. _It’s my wedding day, she’s married, and she’s still flirting with everyone_. 

“He’s certainly nice to look at, but his kingdom is hardly anything. They say there are goats and sheep running rampant there. A few have even claimed he keeps some in the house with him.” Josephine turns and looks at her. “If he’s lucky, he’ll win and then he’ll be able to stay here with you.” She smiles, then she tilts her head to the side, with a look that Clarke has come to recognize in her eyes. “I’ve also heard he knows a thing or two when it comes to having a woman in his bed.”

Clarke can feel her cheeks turn scarlet, and she looks down at the floor through the bottom of her veil. “Oh, there, there, my little cousin,” Josephine coos, “you should be grateful. After all, your wedding night is just the beginning.”

And with that, Josephine turns and walks back out of the room. Clarke feels like she can’t breathe, trying to drag in a deep breath as silently as she can. _They say it’s like a slaughter. There’s supposed to be blood, and the pain—_

“Clarke?” Harper reaches out and places a hand on her shoulder, and she looks up at her. “We should get you down to the courtyard.”

Clarke takes another deep breath, and then another, before finally nodding her head and allowing her maid to guide her towards her bedroom door. As she descends the stairs, she tries to calm herself as best as she can. _If what Josephine said is true, then maybe it won’t be so bad_ , she tells herself. _But that is assuming that Bellamy actually wins_. 

She walks up the platform and takes a seat to the left of her father, looking at the men lining up on the other end of the court. There are goblets of wine in most of the men’s hands, but Clarke realizes that Bellamy doesn’t have one. It makes sense, since Clarke doesn’t know why anyone would want to be affected by spirits while they’re supposed to be competing for the hand of a princess, but perhaps they’re experiencing nerves, too. She tries not to flinch at the sound of the men yelling, whooping and laughing loud and pushing each other around. _They look like animals_.

Her father stands, addressing the people that have gathered to watch the competition while also welcoming Jospehine and her husband, but the words meld together in Clarke’s ears. She doesn’t think Josephine was this nervous on her wedding day a year ago, but she’s never been quite like her cousin. Not in looks, or in her ability to command a room by just walking into it. But, knowing Josephine, she would never admit the truth if she had. 

Clarke clutches her hands together in her lap as the men get into position to begin the race, and Clarke sends a silent plea to the gods and goddesses to help her get a good husband. She doesn’t want Cage to win, or Dax, two of the men she’s heard stories about. She doesn’t want Finn Collins to win, since she’s talked to a girl that he tried to court a couple of years ago. Clarke is pretty sure her father might have his own choice for her, but he would never tell her. But she knows her mother couldn’t care less.

She holds her breath as she waits for the starting signal to sound, and when she looks at the men, she can see how almost all of them are looking towards her cousin who puts on a show of smiling and waving at them, but then, there’s Bellamy. When her eyes find his, he’s already looking at her. She feels like she’s frozen in place as he looks at her, his tongue coming out to wet his lips before he looks straight ahead. 

The starting sound rings throughout the courtyard, and Clarke jolts in her seat at it, then the men are off. They have to run to the hill and return, and the first one back will be the winner. There will be losers, but none of them would dare make a scene on a day like this. When the men disappear out of view, Clarke tries to breathe, but how could she? Whoever comes through that gate will be the one she marries. She counts the seconds, knowing how long it’s taken some of the soldiers to run to the hill and back. The longer it takes, the more nervous she gets, then, the crowd gasps.

King Bellamy Blake runs through the gate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's the first chapter! Thoughts? Comments? Concerns? I love hearing from you!
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand here's the beginning of the smut :)
> 
> I just realized I never linked the song that the title comes from and it's "[Fields of Gold](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EWLReudJUOs)" by Sting & The Police :)

When King Bellamy reaches the finish line, he tilts his head up to the sky, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly, causing his muscles to move. Clarke holds her breath. _He won._ When he turns around, his eyes find her, and she can feel herself blush even though he can’t see her. 

“The winner,” her father begins, “of Princess Clarke’s hand is King Bellamy Blake of Ithaca!” 

The crowd that’s gathered cheers, and King Bellamy pulls himself up to his full height, still panting, and walks towards the platform. Clarke stands, looking down at him through her veil, completely ignoring the other men coming in through the gate. When he’s positioned in front of her, King Bellamy bows, and Clarke does the same. 

_Of all the ways this could have gone, this seems like the best I could have hoped for._

As expected, there are a few guys who aren’t exactly happy about losing, but no one makes a scene. Though, there are a few people that claim that King Bellamy caused the other men to lose with help from Clarke’s uncle, Russel. She doesn’t understand _why_ her uncle would try to help Bellamy win, especially since she’s sure that they aren’t friends and there is nothing that would suggest they’re allies. It’s a curious situation, but it’s not one she dwells on for long. 

She’s walked into the dining hall at Bellamy’s side after his men have placed his robes on him, and Clarke would swear she can feel the heat rolling off of him in waves. _Well, he did just run in a race._ They are given the two high seats at the table as Clarke’s father sits beside her and her mother beside him, but Bellamy is to her left. She hasn’t looked at him directly since last night, and she’s not sure how she’ll react if he points out that he saw her on the beach.

Josephine enters the room and the guests turn their attention towards her. She smiles at them, catching the eye of all of the men and making it seem like they’re the only ones she’s flirting with. Really, Clarke never knew how her cousin could keep up with the games she likes to play. It seems like it would get very tiring. The other competitors are captivated by her, watching her every step, and Clarke chances a look at Bellamy. He picks up the pitcher to pour himself a glass of wine and he glances at Josephine, but he turns his attention back to his drink and then he looks at Clarke.

She sucks in a breath and looks away, but it’s not like he could have seen her looking at him from under her veil. She watches him out of the corner of her eye as he leans back in his chair, and then she lets herself look at him a little more. In the daylight, she can see how the sun shines on his skin and makes it look like he’s been brushed with gold paint, and the sweat that clings to his neck and exposed parts of his chest makes it look like he’s made of jewels. When he goes to take a sip of his wine, she watches his jaw move and how he licks the remaining liquid off his lips before he turns to laugh at something one of his men has said. And she would be lying if she said she didn’t love the sound of it.

 _He’s certainly wonderful to look at_. 

Clarke turns her attention back to the plate of food in front of her and begins to rip some of the meat away, but she can only manage a few bites before her nerves set in again. So, instead, she opts to eat some of the grapes that have been placed out, but even that doesn’t last long before the thought of what’s going to happen later that evening comes back. It won’t begin until the sun disappears, so there are still a few hours left but, still, it’s coming. 

As the time goes on, Harper tries to persuade her to drink a glass of wine or two, to try to relax her, and tells her that she’ll need to have something in her stomach to give her energy, but Clarke doesn’t know how she could eat or drink at a time like this. King Bellamy, on the other hand, has no such problem. She tries not to look at him too much, but she can’t help but want to know what he’s like before they’re placed in a room together and expected to consummate their marriage. She thinks about the look on his face from the night before and how he seemed concerned for the girl he was talking to. _But would he have been concerned over any girl out by herself or was he concerned because he knew it was me?_

Deep in her thoughts, Clarke doesn’t notice the shift in her husband’s position or see his hand coming to rest over hers that are knotted in her lap. Her lips part when she feels the warmth from his hand seep into hers, and she lets him take her left hand as he threads his fingers with hers. Her heart feels like it’s about to beat out of her chest and he’s only moved to hold her hand. She can’t imagine how she’ll feel when they’re in the bedroom alone. 

But, despite her nerves, Clarke can feel some of the worry leave her body. _Maybe he does care_. When she looks at him again, he’s looking at the man sitting at his left, so she turns back to her food. _He can’t be a terrible person if he’s trying to comfort me. And if Josephine is right about him knowing what he’s doing then maybe he won’t be like Menelaus._ She reaches out with her right hand to take a sip of her wine, taking care to not get any on her veil, and leans back in her chair. Like before, almost all of the men and even some of the women can’t seem to stop looking at Josephine and wanting to know what she’s going to do, but Bellamy couldn’t seem to care less. Which makes Clarke feel a little better.

~

When it comes time for the consummation, Clarke is carried off on a bed while Bellamy leads the way down the hall towards the marriage chamber, and she tries to calm her racing heart. Of course, everyone is excited about this even though it’s known among women that it’s a very unpleasant experience. They even have to station guards outside of the room to keep the girl’s friends from trying to save her when they hear screaming. Which isn’t a comforting thought. 

Clarke doesn’t watch as the door is shut behind her, and she flinches at the sound. She wouldn’t consider herself meek, and in fact Wells and Harper would testify that she’s the exact opposite, but with the situation that she’s in...she doesn’t know what she’s doing. _What if he laughs at me?_ Her heart sinks. _If what Marina said is true, he wouldn’t expect me to know what to do._ She can hear Bellamy behind her as she moves towards the bed, but then the door creaks open and she can hear him whisper something before it closes again.

She holds her breath as his footsteps come closer, and then he’s standing in front of her. _He doesn’t look like he’s had too much wine_. She watched the amount of times he refilled his cup, but he seemed to drink without feeling it’s effects. Which, she wishes she could say the same but in truth she’s feeling something from the two glasses she had. 

“May I move this?” His voice is soft when he asks, and he lifts the end of her veil slightly. Clarke nods, and she can see him swallow before he lifts her veil up and over her head. Then, he smiles. “I’ve been waiting to see your face for quite a while.”

 _So, maybe he didn’t realize it was me last night_. She looks at his face for a moment, and into his dark eyes that seem to glow in the candle light around them, but then she casts her eyes down at the floor. She knows he must be disappointed, since she’s not considered as beautiful as her cousin or even _that_ beautiful at all, and yet he stands before her looking like he’s just stepped off Apollo’s chariot.

“Will you look at me?” 

Clarke bites at her bottom lip as she looks up at him, and the look from the night before is back. His eyebrows are furrowed together and his lips are pressed into a thin line. Her eyes linger on them for a moment, and she imagines they would be soft against her if he chose to kiss her. Though, according to Josephine, that is not a requirement.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, “if you’re disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” He raises an eyebrow at her. “Why would I be disappointed?”

“I’m not Josephine.”

His eyebrows furrow together even more and Clarke looks away from him again. She wishes she didn’t feel the need to apologize to him, but she does. Everyone always praises Josephine on her looks and her way of speaking to people, on her ability to embody everything that a queen should be, and after a lifetime of being compared to her and being judged less, Clarke can’t help but feel like he _must_ be disappointed that he did not win _beautiful Josephine_.

His fingers come to rest under her chin and he lifts her face back up to his. His dark eyes search her face, and she feels like he’s staring into her soul. “What happened to the head-strong girl I met last night? The one who wouldn’t even let me offer her a hand with gathering her things?”

Clarke’s eyes widen as she looks at him, and when she feels overwhelmed while looking in his eyes, she finds the dimple in his chin. “So, you knew who I was last night and you still chose to marry me?”

“Of course, I did. Why wouldn’t I?”

She looks up at him through her eyelashes. “I snuck out without any escorts. Many would consider that grounds to challenge my virginity.”

“For some, yes, but I have a feeling that you are not a girl who would fall into bed with anyone who is not your husband.”

Clarke looks up at him fully, lifting her chin. “No, I’m not.”

At that, Bellamy smiles softly. “There’s the girl I remember.” Her cheeks flame as he looks at her, and she has to force herself to not look away. _At least that isn’t hard_ , the little voice in her head whispers, _you could look at him forever_. “Are you nervous?”

His question is not something she was expecting, but she nods. “Yes,” she whispers. “This night is not exactly seen as something pleasant for someone in my position.”

Bellamy’s eyes soften as he looks at her. “Whatever you’ve been told about how this night is supposed to go, forget it,” he murmurs. “I don’t like the narrative that it’s something that is supposed to be bloody and painful, and the idea that there are some who enjoy listening to the woman scream out in pain is abhorrent.” Clarke looks away again when he says the last bit, and everything that the maids told her comes back when his hand comes out and wraps around hers, threading their fingers together like when they were at the banquet. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

At that, Clarke straightens her back and looks up at him again. _He looks sincere_. She takes in his features once again that night, and it’s like she’s being covered in a soft blanket of comfort as his eyes search hers. “I believe you.”

Bellamy smiles for a second time, and it makes Clarke’s heart stutter and her breath catch in her throat and suddenly she’s _very_ aware of how close he’s moved since they’ve been talking, but she’s not afraid of what’s going to happen. This may be what’s expected of her, but it doesn’t have to go how people believe it will.

“May I kiss you?” His voice is soft and sweet when he asks, like honey dripping onto her skin. She nods, and his free hand comes up to cup the side of her face as he leans in closer.

As she imagined, his lips are soft and warm against hers, and it sends a wave of something warm throughout her body. Her hand comes up to press against his chest, and then he guides their intertwined hands up so she can place the other one on his chest as his comes to rest on the other side of her face. 

His tongue runs along her bottom lip and Clarke tries to press herself closer to him. She’s never kissed anyone before, but even hearing what it’s like she wouldn’t have it expected it to be like this. He tastes like wine and smells like smoke and the warmth of his body spreads into hers, intoxicating her more than the drinks she’s had. She can feel his heart beating under her fingertips, and with how fast it’s moving she wonders if he might be nervous, too.

When they pull apart, Clarke looks up at him, wondering what he’s going to do. Wind causes the draperies to move, giving them a look at the buildings below as the moon bathes the city in white, but neither of them pay any attention to it. Clarke wants to know what it’s like to share a bed with Bellamy. What it’s like to have someone know her in a way no one else has, or will. His hands move up to her crown and her veil and he takes them off slowly, even untangling the strands of her hair that get caught on them, and then he begins to undo her hair. He unties the golden string that’s been placed at the end of her braid and runs his fingers through her hair to loosen it. 

“I like your hair,” he murmurs. “It brings out your eyes.”

“Thank you.” Clarke smiles a little. She lets her eyes roam over him a little, but when she looks at her hand laying on top of his toga, so close to his exposed chest, a thought comes into her mind and before she can push it away she says, “Do you think I’m too pale? Or that I look sickly?”

“Of course, not.” His eyebrows furrow together. “Has someone told you that?” When she doesn’t answer, it’s like she can see the answer come into his mind. “Was it your cousin?” 

Clarke ducks her head. “Possibly.” 

“Whatever your cousin has told you,” Bellamy says, lifting her face back up to his, “I want you to ignore it.” He pauses. “Unless she’s ever told you you’re beautiful, then you should listen.” 

Clarke giggles before she can help herself, and she brings her hand up to cover her mouth so as to muffle the sound, but Bellamy’s smile is as bright as the sun when he hears it. “She also told me that you know a thing or two when it comes to having a woman in your bed,” she says softly, and in return, Bellamy is the one that blushes.

It’s a sight to see. The way the pinkness spreads over his cheekbones and his lips part as he sucks in a soft breath, looking at her. Like his golden brushed skin has been painted with rose dust. He looks away as he reaches out and wraps his hands around hers, running his thumbs over the back of them. 

“Does that bother you?”

 _A little_. “You were a prince,” she says softly, “and now you’re a king, a warrior, it is what’s expected of you.”

Bellamy raises an eyebrow at her. “Like how others have expectations of what tonight is supposed to be?”

“Have you heard of many who do not follow what is believed to happen?” This time, Clarke raises an eyebrow back, and the corner of Bellamy’s mouth turns up.

“Many have said you were clever,” he whispers, then he takes a deep breath. “I haven’t heard of many who would consider their wives needs and wants or even lift them over their own, but after years of seeing my parents, I know that there are a few good men who do. And I want to do that for you.” 

Once again, heat floods Clarke’s cheeks as she looks up at him, and suddenly the room feels warmer than it had before. Bellamy steps closer, almost to the point where their chests would be touching, but he pauses as he looks down at her, and Clarke’s heart threatens to beat out of her chest.

“I want to take care of you,” he murmurs, “if you’ll let me.”

Words don’t come to her so Clarke only nods her head, but that seems to be enough for Bellamy because he leans towards her again, stopping just before he touches her lips, and she closes the space between them. Kissing him for a second time takes all of the breath from her with the way he presses her closer with a hand on her lower back and the other threading into her free hair. 

She tries to follow what he does, twirling her tongue around his and sucking at his bottom lip the way he does hers. She assumes she must be doing something that he likes because a low sound vibrates in his throat, and she smiles against his lips.

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” He asks, pulling back a little to look at her, and Clarke shakes her head.

“Never.”

He smiles softly at her. “You are a quick learner.” Clarke smiles, too, biting the inside of her cheek to try and keep from looking too excited by his comment, and Bellamy gives her a quick, sweet kiss. His eyes flick from her to the bed and back, and she can feel her body wanting to shake from anticipation. “Will you tell me if I do something you don’t like? Or if I hurt you?”

Her heart swells as she looks at him, and even though she’s not entirely without nerves, she certainly feels a lot better than she had only an hour ago. She nods her head, and it’s like she can see some of the tension leave Bellamy’s body as he smiles again at her, and she hopes he smiles at her like that for the rest of their lives. She really loves that smile.

“We’ll go slow, okay?”

“Okay.” 

The smile on his face doesn’t leave as he leans in to kiss her, and she feels more at ease as she lifts her hands to place them on his chest. _He’s already said I’m getting better at kissing him_. The thought thrills her, and she hopes that she can learn more about what he likes and things she can do that he would appreciate. Knowing that he doesn’t want to treat her how most men treat their wives calms her further, and she wants to return it.

After they kiss for a little bit, Bellamy begins to walk Clarke back and before she can wonder where he’s bringing her exactly, the backs of her legs are pressed against the side of the bed. Clarke can feel her body wanting to stiffen at the thought of what’s about to happen, but the feeling of Bellamy’s thumb running along her cheekbone and the way his body presses into hers makes her relax again. 

Bellamy’s lips leave hers and she wants to ask where he’s going, but then they move to her cheek, and down to her jaw, and goosebumps erupt on Clarke’s skin when she realizes that he’s kissing her lower and lower. He kisses her collarbone and onto her shoulder as he moves the strap of her dress away until it hangs down her arm, and then he kisses across her chest to the other shoulder. 

His lips leave a fire trail across her body, like the heat that resides within him is being left on her skin as he moves, and it seeps into her. Sending a wave of warmth all the way down to her toes. Her eyes begin to flutter closed as he pushes the other strap down, and he kisses her neck once more before he straightens. When she looks at him, his pupils have expanded and his lips look swollen slightly, and he doesn’t look away from her as he pushes her dress down and off her body. It pools at her feet on the floor, and Clarke holds her breath. From the way he’s talked, she doesn’t want to think that he would be let down with how she looks, _but Josephine…_

She can feel her cheeks turn scarlet the longer he looks in her eyes, but then they begin to roam over her body, taking her in. She watches his face closely, but no signs of disappointment appear as his hands come out and rest on her ribs, his thumbs running against the sides of her breasts.

“You are absolutely stunning.”

Clarke still can’t bring herself to breathe as he looks at her, but then he’s kissing her again and she lets herself melt against him. The feeling of his clothes rubbing against her body make it feel sensitive, like they’re grating against her. So, taking all of the courage she can find, Clarke reaches up and unties the gold rope around his waist, then she reaches up and pushes his clothes down.

When they fall away, Clarke can’t help the gasp that escapes her lips when she can feel him pressing against her stomach. She doesn’t touch him there, though, instead she allows herself to press her hands against his exposed chest, and she glides her hands up to his shoulders and keeps them there. Bellamy holds her close before he leans down, causing their lips to break apart, and places his hands under her thighs and lifts her up. Instinctively, she wraps her legs around his waist and Bellamy moves back to kissing her as he crawls onto the bed with her still in his arms.

He lays her down, and the sheets feel like she’s been bathed in oil as she presses into them. Bellamy props himself above her, and Clarke lets her eyes take him in how he did with her earlier. She saw what he looked like earlier during the competition, but now she’s able to touch him. The way his muscles cause dips and rivets, and the dark patch of hair that runs from his naval down to his—she blushes and looks back at his face, only to find him already looking at her.

She lifts her head up, silently asking for a kiss, and Bellamy seems more than happy to oblige as he lowers himself on top of her. The feeling of his body pressing into hers causes her to hum into his mouth, and she wraps her arms around his shoulders tighter, pulling him even closer. She knew that this would be intimate, but she didn’t realize she would want to fuse their bodies together. 

There is a story that Zeus once created humans with four arms and four legs and two faces, then when he was afraid of their power he split them apart and condemned them to spend their lives searching for their other half. 

_Maybe that would explain why two people can fit so well together._

Once again, Bellamy trails kisses down her face to her throat and he sucks lightly at her pulse point, drawing another sound out of her. _No one ever said it could be nice_. It’s a sad thought really, knowing that most of the women she’s been around don’t have a good view of sharing a bed with a man, but surely it can’t be all bad?

Bellamy continues lower towards her chest, and Clarke looks down at him as he kisses the valley between her breasts, his lips grazing over her skin as he moves and sucks one of them into his mouth. Clarke gasps as his tongue swirls around her nipple, and she’s so caught up in how his mouth feels on her that she doesn’t notice his other hand coming up to cup her other one. He nips at her slightly and a low moan sounds in the chamber, being carried away in the wind when it floats out of the window. His mouth disappears for a moment before it’s on her other breast, and she writhes under him. Her body feels like sparks have been set off across it, and even though she feels like this is something that should be kept a secret, almost like it's forbidden—like it should be locked away behind closed doors where no one can hear it—she can’t help but love how he makes her feel. 

When he pulls off for a second time, Clarke’s chest is rising and falling rapidly, and she can feel the fire that’s been lit on her chest, turning it pink. Bellamy’s eyes are dark as he looks up at her, but he doesn’t linger for long before he travels even lower. He continues to kiss her as his hands roam over her sides, and she can feel the calluses on his hands brush over her skin, causing her to shiver. 

He kisses her lower stomach, and then makes a trail from one hip to the other before kissing a line down her thigh, but before she can begin to wonder what he’s going to do, he kisses just above her center and she gasps.

“If I do something—”

“I’ll tell you,” she assures him, though her voice comes out high and breathy and it sounds completely foreign to her ears. From what she was told, she expected to be hoarse from crying, but this is something completely different. 

Bellamy’s eyes spark as he looks at her, but then he turns his attention back to her center and Clarke watches his every move. He kisses her softly above her curls, then back to her thighs, working his way in until she can feel his breath fan out across her folds. She bites at her bottom lip as he finally presses a kiss there, and she makes a small noise before she can catch it. Bellamy looks up at her, but when she doesn’t say anything he keeps looking at her as he licks a long strip between her folds and she moans, low and deep. 

_Definitely no one told me about this_.

He does it again, and Clarke clutches at the sheets as her hips jerk up, and Bellamy reaches up and spreads his hand across her stomach, keeping her on the bed. The sparks that she’s been feeling run through her body like a wave crashing on the sand, and she would swear they’re outside as she sees the stars on the backs of her eyelids. His mouth is warm and wet as he delves into her, and if she hadn’t seen him eat so much earlier she would wonder if he was trying to devour her.

Bellamy is relentless as he works, and Clarke can’t seem to find anything to ground her. Anytime she closes her eyes, she loses all sense of where she is and it feels like she’s floating through the sky with nothing around her, but whenever she keeps them open, just seeing Bellamy between her legs drags her to a place she’s never been before. He pulls off her and Clarke nearly whines when he does, which startles her because she’s pretty sure she’s never whined a day in her life. But Bellamy doesn’t seem bothered by it, in fact, he smiles slightly as he moves one of his hands and slips a finger into her.

It doesn’t hurt, it’s actually quite the opposite, but the feeling of something in her is foreign, and her body clenches around it. “Relax, love,” he murmurs against her skin, and Clarke does her best to do as he asks when he goes back to licking her. He moves his finger in and out as he works, and Clarke’s mind seems incapable of thinking of anything else other than how _good_ it feels. She’s not sure how long he does this, but then he’s pulling back again and she watches as he presses a second finger into her.

This time it stings and her body doesn’t want to relax as he pushes it all the way into her, but when she thinks about how big he is… “You’re doing so good, princess.” His voice is deep and rough, and the sound of it along with his praise causes her to clench around him, but she grows used to the feeling of having two fingers inside of her as she sinks back into the sheets.

He presses his tongue hard against her as he licks through her folds again, and that along with the feeling of his fingers crooking inside of her causes her moan to get caught in her throat as she gasps. Her body feels like it’s turning into liquid, incapable of moving as he holds onto her, and she feels lightheaded. _Wine would never compare to this_. He doesn’t stop as he licks and sucks at her, and Clarke can feel something building inside of her. Something different and strange, and she doesn’t know what to do with it.

She can feel something tightening in her lower stomach, below his hand, and her muscles contract and she can’t seem to catch her breath as she lays there. She tries to say his name, but nothing other than quick breaths and light moans fill the room as she looks down at him. Doing that just seems to intensify the sensation that’s building within her, and as his fingers curl and uncurl within her, she can feel herself beginning to lose her grip on what’s around her.

Bellamy growls against her, and the vibration along with the feeling of his tongue and his fingers inside of her push her over the edge and she cries out as warmth spreads throughout her body. She mewls and shakes beneath him until he pulls his fingers away and moves to kissing her instead of licking and sucking. 

She’s still shaking with shocks that spread throughout her body when he moves to position himself back on top of her, and Clarke has the urge to pull him as close as she can. When she opens her arms, Bellamy presses himself against her as she pants, trying to calm herself down. She runs her fingers through his black curls as she tries to stop shaking, and she loves the way they wrap around her fingers like black silk ribbon. 

Bellamy kisses her shoulder, and her neck, and her cheek, and when he looks at her, Clarke cups the back of his head as she pulls him in for a kiss. She can taste herself on his lips, and when his tongue touches hers she hums into his mouth, trying to get him closer. He lets her explore his mouth, seeming content to let her guide him even though she’s still not entirely sure what she’s doing, and when they pull apart she gazes up at him. His hair is beginning to stick to his temples, and his cheeks are pink again but not from embarrassment. The heat that she’s been feeling rolls off his body all night has intensified, and it warms her to the bone.

A silent conversation passes between the two of them, and Clarke bites at her bottom lip as she wraps her legs around his waist. Bellamy moves, propping himself up on one arm as he reaches down and wraps his hand around himself, and Clarke watches as he runs himself through her wet folds. She moans at the feeling, but then Bellamy positions himself at her entrance and as he pushes into her, he kisses her.

Two of his fingers were already a lot so having him pushing into her makes it feel like he’s trying to split her in half. It stings and her body clenches and unclenches around him, wanting it to disappear, but Clarke wills herself to relax. She wants this, she _needs_ this. She needs to feel him inside of her, see his face when he fills her for the first time in their journey to having a child. She just wants _him_.

Bellamy kissing her goes a long way to take her mind off the pain she’s feeling, but even though it’s not exactly comfortable, it’s nothing that would cause her to cry out from it. He flexes his hips and seats himself inside of her, and it feels like all of the air has been pressed out of her body. Her body tries to get used to the feeling of having him there, but it’s not that easy. She feels so _full_. Like she was missing something that only Bellamy would have been able to give her, and her mind drifts back to Zeus and his condemning of humanity.

“How do you feel?” He asks, and Clarke clenches around him.

“Full.” Her voice comes out rough, and Bellamy kisses the corner of her mouth, and then her cheek, before giving her a proper, sweet kiss.

“You took me so well,” he praises. “You feel amazing.”

“Yeah?” She feels silly for his words exciting her as much as they do, but with the way he smiles at her, that feeling goes away.

“More than you know.” He leans in to give her another kiss and he moves out of her, making it to where she feels like she can breathe again, but then he presses back in and the air is pushed out again. 

This is how it goes for a while, Bellamy moving slowly in and out and Clarke alternating between the feeling of being able to breathe properly and getting overwhelmed when he comes back. Eventually, though, Bellamy moves and then one of his hands is cupping the back of her neck and the other slides under her head, threading through her hair. He holds her close as he moves, and Clarke’s body hums as she wraps her arms tighter around him. He trails kisses down her neck, sucking on it at various points like before, and Clarke can feel her body beginning to get used to having him inside of her.

She arches into him and Bellamy picks up his pace slightly as his mouth finds hers. His lips are swollen and soft, and his chest is hard and smooth as it grazes over her own, drawing soft moans and gasps from her as he rubs against her nipples. _I want to take care of you_ , his voice echoes in her mind, and she realizes just what that means. He’s not rough with her, taking it slow and holding her close like she’s something to be cherished and adored, and it makes her heart melt. 

King Bellamy Blake is the sun, and Clarke feels like Ikaros, wanting to fly as close as she can to him.

Bellamy’s hand tightens slightly on the back of her neck as he picks up the pace again, and Clarke can feel the sensation from earlier building within her again as his hips press into her already sensitive center over and over again. She gasps when she notices it, and Bellamy pulls off her neck to look at her. More of his hair is beginning to stick to his forehead, and she loves the way the sweat shines in the candle light surrounding them. 

“Bellamy,” she gasps, and he gives her a deep, loving kiss that sets her lips on fire.

“I’m here.” His voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, and it makes her wonder if she’s the only one who’s ever heard him talk like this. “Let the feeling take you.”

Clarke can’t even nod, but her eyes flutter closed as she tries to focus on the feeling that’s building within her, and the familiar tightness comes back in her lower stomach, and her legs that are wrapped around his waist tighten. She realizes that it must make it harder for him to move, but he doesn’t say anything. She’s _so close_ when she opens her eyes again, and just seeing him looking at her so intensely is what pushes her over the edge.

She sucks in a breath as she comes for a second time, moaning deeply as warmth washes through her body. She gasps and little noises fill the room as she spasms around him, and Bellamy buries his face in her neck as he moans, too, and he spills inside of her. She didn’t think she could feel even fuller than what she already was, but as he works the two of them through the bliss that spreads through their bodies, she realizes she was wrong.

He doesn’t pull out of her immediately like she expects, but instead he lays his head on her shoulder and just holds her. Clarke smiles as she holds onto him, too, and she presses a kiss to his forehead before she can second guess herself. Her action causes Bellamy to sit up, and he peppers her face with kisses before landing on her lips, and she giggles.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm.” Clarke nods her head. “That was wonderful.”

“Was it?” He raises his eyebrows, and she nods again, biting at her bottom lip. “Good. Because I would like to do that again. Whenever you’re ready.”

Clarke giggles again and she leans in to give him another kiss. This time, Bellamy is the one who hums and the sound makes her heart soar. 

“Would you like some wine?”

“Please.” Bellamy presses a kiss to her nose before he pulls out of her, which she doesn’t like, and Clarke watches as he grabs a blanket from the end of the bed and wraps it around himself, but she doesn’t miss the large scar that’s on his thigh before it’s covered or the fact that there is some blood on him.

She slips under the sheets as he walks towards the doors and opens them slightly, enough to where he can poke his head out of it, and he calls for someone. It’s odd, since Clarke assumed that there would be guards standing right outside, but she says nothing as he speaks to the person that appears and then he’s closing the door again and walking back towards the bed. He smiles at her when he crawls onto the bed next to her, and he wraps an arm around her covered waist.

“You look like Aphrodite.” Clarke shakes her head slightly as she huffs, which isn’t the most lady-like thing to do, and Bellamy raises an eyebrow at her. “Do you not believe me?”

“Josephine is the one that people praise for her looks,” she mumbles, but before Bellamy can answer there is a knock at the door and he presses a kiss to her arm as he stands.

“I’ll respond to that in a moment.” He readjusts the blanket around his waist as he walks to the door and he takes the tray that’s handed to him before he shuts the door again. He sets the tray on the table beside the bed and pours them each a cup, handing Clarke hers before he undoes the blanket around his waist and climbs under the sheet with her.

She tries to sit up, but there’s an ache between her legs and she hisses before sinking back down, and instead opts to roll onto her side. “Are you okay?”

“I'm sore,” she whispers, “but, yes, I’m okay.”

Bellamy slides down under the sheet with her, rolling onto his side as he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “If the pain gets worse tell me.” Clarke looks at him for a moment before she nods and then turns her attention towards her drink and takes a sip. “It seems as if you have endured years of being told that you were never enough, and I do not want you to live the rest of your life believing that,” he says, but Clarke doesn’t say anything. How could she? It’s exactly what’s happened. “Earlier, you apologized for not being Josephine, but I never wanted her.”

At that, Clarke looks at him over the rim of her cup. “A year ago, I was at the competition for her hand. I had a duty to be there, I was expected to take a wife and my advisor was very insistent that I should take her.” _Of course, he was_. “That day, I was lined up with all of the other men vying for the position as her husband, when I saw the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my life smiling as she tried to readjust her veil that had blown up in the wind.”

Clarke looks at him, watching as she firelight mixes with the moonlight coming in through the windows and dances across his skin. “I knew I wasn’t going to win the competition, but I didn’t want to.” Bellamy takes a sip of his drink. “I asked about you. I knew you were Josephine’s cousin, but wanted to know more. I even talked to your uncle.” She raises an eyebrow at him, and the corner of his mouth turns up. “The other competitors were getting aggressive, threatening violence, and I made a deal with your uncle that if I could calm them down then he would help me win your hand.”

“And how did he do that?” 

“He brought some very good wine.” 

Clarke laughs, and she reaches up to cover her mouth again as Bellamy grins at her. That sight is something she would love to see for the rest of her life, too. “I practiced for this day for a year, but I knew that there was a possibility I still wouldn’t win, and I didn’t want to take the chance.” He looks away from her, his finger running around the rim of his cup. “I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do everything I could to keep Cage or Dax from having you.”

“So, you made sure you got me,” she says quietly. The thought is flattering, knowing that he was so taken with her that he made sure he won, but she would be lying if she said she liked the idea of a girl being offered up as a prize– _property_ –for others to take.

“I don’t see you as an object, if that is what you’re thinking.” Bellamy turns his dark eyes towards her. “I don’t want you to believe that you have to do anything for me, or that I expect anything from you. I’ve enjoyed tonight, but I’m not going to pressure you into accepting me.”

A lump forms in Clarke’s throat as she looks at her husband. She knows what it’s like to kiss him, how his lips feel pressed against her skin, what he feels like when he’s inside of her, and despite the fact that she only met him last night, she couldn’t imagine not being with him. She reaches out, brushing the curls off his forehead before placing her hand on his cheek and he leans into it, turning his head to kiss it.

“I accepted you last night on the beach,” she murmurs, and Bellamy’s lips part as he looks at her. “I wanted you to win, Bellamy.”

At that, Bellamy leans forward and captures her lips with his, and Clarke licks at the wine that’s staining his lips.

“I grew up watching my father adore my mother, and I’ve wanted their type of love for a long time,” he whispers against her lips. “We don’t have to love each other now, but I would like to think that we’ll grow to.”

“I believe I already am.”

And there it is again, that smile that could break anyone’s heart. “Me, too.”

He kisses her again, and then he sits up and pulls her between his legs, wrapping his arm around her while he holds onto his wine with the other. They spend the entire night talking, and each time he laughs at something she says, her heart lifts a little higher.

She asks him about the scar on his thigh, and he tells her that he got it from a boar when he was younger. He went hunting with his grandfather and his cousins, and they let him get attacked before leaving him for dead. He tells her that he returned home, bleeding more than he believed was possible and threw the boar down at the feet of his grandfather and told him he brought dinner. Apparently his father was furious and nearly tried to kill his grandfather before his wife stepped in. Clarke presses a kiss to the mark, causing his muscles to flex when she does, and then he kisses her.

In turn, she tells him about how she was a child and her mother was walking with her along the cliffs when she pushed her into the water. She doesn’t know why her mother did it, maybe she assumed that Clarke wanted to go for a swim, but a few ducks appeared and brought her back to shore where she walked back to the castle to find her father. She explains that her mother doesn’t care for much other than the water, and that she hadn’t been back in the ocean until the night before.

“What possessed you to walk into it?” He asks softly, his fingers running up and down her arm, and Clarke shrugs.

“It felt right,” she whispers. “Like something was pulling me towards it. But, never again.”

She can feel Bellamy’s chuckle vibrate against her back and it pulls a smile onto her face. She goes on to tell him that she loves her father, but she doesn’t blame her mother for being absent for the most part. In response, Bellamy tells her about his parents, and his little sister. Which, Clarke didn’t realize that there was a princess in Ithaca, and Bellamy chuckles again.

“That is because Octavia would rather kill any man who tries to possess her than marry him.”

“I believe she and I would get along very well,” Clarke laughs, and Bellamy presses a kiss to the top of her head.

“Yeah, me, too.”

 _He sounds sad_ . She knows that it’s expected for the husband to stay with the wife’s family, it’s tradition, but what could anyone do if the wife chose to go back with her husband? _Bellamy is a king, after all. He can’t very well stay away from his home forever. It would get raided_.

“I’m sorry you’ve had to travel all this way for me.”

“Don’t apologize,” he murmurs, and he gives her another kiss on top of her head. “I chose this, and I wouldn’t change it.” He takes a deep breath. “Besides, even if I did want to bring you back home with me, I wouldn’t take you from your family.”

“Do you not want to bring me back to Ithaca?”

When he doesn’t answer, Clarke turns a little in his arms and looks up at him. He chews at his bottom lip for a moment, and when he speaks she can see the indentions of his teeth. “I do, but like I said I would not take you from your family.”

“Would it be taking me if I wanted to go?”

Bellamy’s eyes widen a bit as he looks at her and his eyebrows arch up under his dark curls. “Do you really want to come back with me?”

“I would love to see your home, and meet your family. It’s not like I could never come back to see mine. Besides,” she says, turning around and moving to straddle his lap, “you have a kingdom to run and you can’t very well do it from here.”

Bellamy looks up at her like she’s something unique that he’s never seen before, and his arm wraps around her waist as he pulls her closer to him, pressing their bodies together.

“You are truly magnificent.” He whispers the words like he can’t fully believe that what she’s said is true, or that she’s even real, but Clarke only smiles as he pulls her in for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you soft? I'm soft.
> 
> I love hearing from all of you!! And I have to say I'm surprised with the amount of love this fic has gotten so far so thank you so much <3
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	3. Chapter 3

The following morning, Clarke and Bellamy made their way to her father’s throne room, and Clarke could feel her nerves wanting to spike as she neared her father, but the feeling of Bellamy’s hand in hers kept them away as they told him of their decision. Of course, King Jake wasn’t exactly _happy_ about his only daughter, and his only child, leaving, but he must have seen how happy she was, because he gave them his blessing.

Now, three days after their wedding, they’re making their way to Bellamy’s ship to head to Ithaca. It would be an even happier event if only Clarke was feeling well. 

She leans her head onto Bellamy’s shoulder, her veil covering her face as the carriage bumps down the dirt road that leads to the docks. For two days after their first night she was sore, and she bled a little on the first day, but now her monthly bleeding has begun and she feels absolutely terrible. Not only from the pains that usually come with this, but because it means that she’s not pregnant. Of course, she didn’t exactly expect it to happen immediately, but that didn’t keep her from hoping as she fell asleep with Bellamy beside her that night. 

As a wife, and especially the wife to a king, it’s her job to give him a baby, but specifically a boy. Bellamy doesn’t seem disappointed, though. In fact, he’s been doting on her even more, and in Clarke’s current state, she could cry from him being so caring. Bellamy’s hand plays with hers as they ride down the road, and Clarke sighs into his shoulder. _Now, I have to deal with this as well as three weeks on the seas? What did I do to deserve this?_

When the carriage comes to a stop, Bellamy opens the door and gets out, and Clarke makes her way out, taking Bellamy’s hand as he helps her down. The sun is high, showing the bright blue color of the water as the light dances across the waves, and it looks beautiful, but Clarke can’t enjoy it. The sun is bright and it’s giving her a headache, and it’s hot which doesn’t help her already-aching body, and as she looks to where the ship is waiting for them, she feels as if she might faint having to walk that far.

Before another thought can cross her mind, her legs leave the ground as two arms pick her up, and she wraps her arm around Bellamy’s neck as she looks at him.

“I can walk.” She tries to sound stern as she says it, not wanting others to think she’s something that should be treated delicately by not letting her walk to the ship herself, but Bellamy only smiles at her.

“This will be our home for the next three weeks, love. I think it’s fitting that I carry you onto it.”

“Is this a tradition in Ithaca?” She asks, raising an eyebrow at him. “You have to carry your wives whenever you enter your home? It seems tiring.”

Bellamy laughs, deep and sweet as he begins walking towards the boat, and despite her saying she could walk, she’s perfectly content to just lay her head back on his shoulder as he carries her. “My father did it with my mother. Whenever they were married, he carried her through the threshold of the castle. I’m not sure why, but when my mother talked about it, she said it was nice.”

They begin making their way up the ramp that leads to the deck, and Bellamy turns to grin at her. “I’ll do that, too, when we dock. Besides, you’re also not feeling well and I don’t want my wife passing out trying to walk onto my ship.”

“So, the real reason is revealed.” She smiles a little, teasing, and Bellamy presses a kiss to her cheek even though her veil is on.

 _My wife_. He said it so casually, but Clarke couldn’t help the thrill it sent through her hearing it. He’s called her love and princess since their first night together, but he’s never called her that. _I like it_. They’ve spent more hours together talking than she’s done with anyone else for any significant amount of time, and she feels like she’s come to know him a lot better because of it. He talks with his hands, moving them around in the air like he’s trying to make them dance, and even more so when he gets excited about what he’s saying. He loves archery, and he’s told her how there is a bow that only he can use, or even string, and when she asked if he would teach her he didn’t hesitate when saying yes. He loves hunting, and telling stories, and she learned their first night together that he absolutely adores his little sister. Well, not necessarily _little_ , since she’s only a year younger than Clarke, but little to him. 

Clarke admires the boat as they walk onto it, loving the way the sails blow in the breeze and cause a deep rustling sound, and how the wood of the ship is dark and trimmed with gold. _For someone who apparently does not have much in the way of a kingdom, he certainly has a lot of nice things_. The men on the ship bow as they pass by, and Bellamy walks towards what Clarke knows to be the captain’s quarters and toes open the door. Inside, there’s more dark wood and intricate detailing on the mantle, with a large desk in the center of the room and a bed pressed against the window behind it. 

Bellamy walks her towards the bed and sets her on it, and Clarke is surprised at just how soft it is. From what Wells had told her, the beds on ships weren’t very comfortable, even for the son of a high-ranking officer, but _then again, Bellamy is the king_. She looks around the room a little more before looking up at him, folding her hands in her lap and he looks down at her. He reaches out and lifts her veil, smiling at her when her face is uncovered. He doesn’t stop there though, as he continues and takes her veil and crown off before setting them off to the side.

“I need to make sure everything is in order before we leave and then I’ll have to keep an eye on our course, but I’ll come check on you later.” Clarke nods, and then a wave of nausea rolls over her and she grimaces, laying back onto the pillows and curling in on herself. “Do you need anything now?” Bellamy asks as he kneels beside her, and Clarke shakes her head.

“No,” she grumbles. “It’s just the first few days are always the hardest.”

Bellamy reaches out and cups the side of her face, running his thumb along her cheek before he leans forward and gives her a soft kiss. “I’ll bring you something to eat once we set off. Is there anything you want in particular?”

“Something sweet.” More pain shoots through her and she winces, and Bellamy presses a kiss to her forehead. 

“I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay.” Clarke tilts her head up, asking for another kiss, and Bellamy smiles at her as he presses his lips to hers. Even though it’s only been three days, she would have to say kissing her husband is her favorite pastime.

She watches as he walks towards the door and out of it, closing it softly behind him. She wraps her arms around herself even tighter and closes her eyes, trying to focus on her breathing more than anything, and she wills her body to calm down. Even though she’s not _in_ the water she’s still surrounded by it, and she’s going to be surrounded by it for _weeks_ . She doesn’t remember the last time she was on a ship, let alone one for this long, so she’s not expecting to have a pleasant journey. _Though, if Bellamy could travel all this way for me, then I can do this for him_.

The idea of meeting her husband’s family makes her nerves rise, but she knows she can’t begin to stress out about that while she’s already having to deal with the pains she’s currently going through. After a while, the tightness that she’s feeling in her lower stomach dissipates and she relaxes a little, pulling a pillow into her chest and burying her face in it. If she’s lucky, she’ll be able to go to sleep and when Bellamy comes in he’ll climb into bed with her and she’ll feel better. Which is another thing, being wrapped up in Bellamy’s arms has the ability to make her feel better, like any discomfort she’s feeling disappears when he’s there.

She must fall asleep at some point, because the next time she opens her eyes the sunlight has shifted in the room to where it’s no longer warming her on the bed but instead it’s shining on the desk. She can see that the wood is a deep red color instead of dark brown, and Bellamy is standing beside it with a small plate in his hand as he picks up a grape and pops it into his mouth. He looks over at her when she stretches, and he smiles softly as he walks towards her and she moves over to give him room to sit down beside her.

“How are you feeling?”

“It feels like someone is running me through with a hot spear,” she sighs, and she eyes at the plate in his hand. “Strawberries?”

“Harper told me you liked them.” He offers her the plate and she smiles at the red fruit piled on top of it with purple grapes beside them. She picks up one of the strawberries and bites into it, loving the feeling of the sweet juice inside of it spreading across her tongue. She licks at her lips as she reaches for another one, then another one, and it’s only when she’s gotten through three of them that she realizes that Bellamy is watching her. She stills, sinking into the pillows a little as her cheeks heat up.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly.

“What are you sorry for?” Bellamy’s eyebrows furrow together, and he picks up a grape and puts it in his mouth.

“I—” _Why am I sorry? I’m hungry and in pain. He brought me the strawberries._ “I wasn’t being very lady-like,” is what she settles on, and Bellamy smiles softly at her.

“How you choose to eat doesn’t bother me.” He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “I just enjoy looking at you.”

Clarke can feel her cheeks flame even more, and she assumes she looks like one of the strawberries. Of course, she enjoys looking at Bellamy. Just watching the way he moves and how he smiles, and wishing she could draw the way he looks in the moonlight, but she never thought he would like looking at her. When they’re talking he’s very attentive, nodding his head and looking at her, and he can never seem to stop touching her whether or not they’re around people, but she thought that any time he was looking at her it was because he felt like he needed to.

“No one has ever told me that before,” she whispers, and she takes a bite of the strawberry she’s holding. 

Bellamy has asked her a lot of questions during their late night talks, mostly about her family and how she grew up, and she has a feeling it’s because he wants to understand what she’s gone through. Not that what she’s gone through is bad, but because it’s shaped how she views herself and as he said their first night, he doesn’t want her to keep thinking that way. 

“Hopefully you’ll get used to me telling you.” Bellamy smiles as he leans down and gives her a kiss on the cheek. “You’re beautiful and I have years of making up to do for others not telling you when they should have.”

Clarke doesn’t say anything, only leans over and rests her head on his shoulder after pressing a kiss to it. She knows he’s probably spent his life being told how attractive he is, and he deserves to be told, but having him tell her feels foreign. _But, I suppose I could get used to my beautiful husband telling me he feels the same way about me as I do him._

She doesn’t try to hide the fact that she’s enjoying the treat he brought her, and Bellamy picks away at the grapes he’s gotten for himself. When there are only two strawberries left, Clarke lifts one up to Bellamy’s mouth and the corner of his lips turn up as he leans forward and takes a bite from it, and when the green leaves detach he sucks the entire thing into his mouth. She giggles as she watches him, then reaches up and wipes away at the red juice gathering at the corner of his mouth. 

In return, Bellamy holds up one of his grapes and she pulls it into her mouth before picking up her last strawberry and eating it, then she lays down and looks up at him. _Really, no one should look this good. The gods put him on the earth as a cruel joke, didn’t they? Even if Josephine were turned into a man she would not look better than him._ Bellamy finishes off the grapes and then places the plate on the shelf above them and then he’s laying down with her. He holds his arm out, and Clarke lifts her head and lays down on him, curling into his side. 

“How are you feeling now?” He whispers, his fingers trailing over the exposed skin of her arm, and she wraps her arm around his waist.

“Better.” She nuzzles his chest, loving how he still smells like smoke. “A lot better now.”

“Good.” He kisses the top of her head, and Clarke closes her eyes at the feeling. King Bellamy—her husband—looks like he was chiseled by Hephaestus, and could make anyone fall at his feet with a single look, and he is the softest person she has ever met. 

As they lay there, Clarke can’t help but wonder if maybe he thought he would be leaving her country with a child already on its way, only to have those hopes taken away when today started. _Menelaus hasn’t said anything to Josephine_ , she tells herself. _And they’ve been married for a year_. But, still, she can’t help but feel like she’s let him down. That thought weighs in her mind as she runs her fingers over the dark blue material of his robes. He told her this morning that he wanted to wear blue because it matched her eyes, and Clarke had stared at him. She never heard of a man dressing to compliment his wife, it was always the other way around. Needless to say, it made her want to tear up.

Before she can catch it, her eyes are watering and her nose is beginning to run and she sniffles as quietly as she can. _I’ve never cried this much._ Still, Bellamy must realize what’s happening because she can feel him shift, but she keeps her eyes on his clothes rather than trying to look up at him. She should have known he would have her look at him. 

When he tilts her face up to his, there’s a deep line between his knitted eyebrows and his lips are pressed into a thin line again. She’s come to recognize that face over the past couple of days as the one he makes when he’s trying to figure something out about her. 

“What’s wrong?”

Clarke bites at her bottom lip to keep it from wobbling, and she moves her head back so she can still lay on him but see his face properly. “I know that it isn’t something that can happen immediately, but I can’t help but feel like I’ve let you down,” she whispers, trying to keep her voice from breaking but to no avail.

The crease between Bellamy’s eyebrows deepen for a moment as he looks in her eyes, but then it’s like she can see the understanding dawn on his face before he pulls her towards him. “Clarke,” he murmurs, and she clutches at his linens as a few tears escape from her eyelashes, “you haven’t disappointed me.” 

“But it’s my job, my _duty_ , to give you an heir, Bellamy.” Clarke swallows over the lump in her throat as she tries to steady her breathing. _I should not be crying over this, but I can’t help it_. Bellamy’s hand threads through her hair as he massages her scalp, and Clarke can feel her body wanting to calm down, but now that she’s begun, she can’t.

“If you never wanted to have a child, Clarke, I wouldn’t force you to.” His voice is low and soft when he speaks, and Clarke can feel his breath fan out across the top of her head. “I don’t want you to feel as if you’re being forced to do something you do not want to do. Especially when it’s something as monumental as having a child.”

Clarke sniffles a little more, rolling the material of his clothes through her fingers to try and calm herself. _How could he be okay with never having a child? His line would end._ “That’s not very kingly of you to say,” she whispers, and Bellamy laughs. 

It’s such a sweet sound, that it pulls a small smile on her face as she kisses his chest.

“I meant what I said during our first night. I don’t expect anything from you, but if you decided that you wanted to have a baby, then I would be more than willing to try.”

The mention of _trying_ to have a baby causes Clarke’s body to heat up, and the pain that she’s been feeling almost seems to ebb away as she thinks about what he’s said. She would be lying if she said that she hadn’t thought about what it would be like to experience what she did on their wedding night again, but they haven’t been able to. But, that didn’t seem to bother Bellamy, either. Josephine told her that men had other ways of taking care of their needs, more so than women, and that it could mean that they take care of themselves or seek others to help them. But, she would make sure that Bellamy would have a _very_ difficult time if he chose the latter.

“Okay,” she says softly, and she pulls back to look up at him. “I’d like to have a baby.”

“Me, too.” He smiles at her, then leans in to give her a kiss, but after a moment she pulls back.

“Did you only tell me that you didn’t expect anything from me so I wouldn’t feel bad?” She knows she’s scowling at him, but the thought that he would—

Bellamy raises an eyebrow at her, but she doesn’t miss the way the corner of his mouth tries to turn up. “No, I didn’t.”

“Why are you laughing at me?”

“I’m not laughing at you.” His smile widens, and Clarke scowls at him even more, which only seems to make it worse. “I just think it’s amusing how you’ve gone from being in pain to being sad to questioning my sincerity within a few minutes.”

Clarke deflates a little at that, not entirely sure about what’s gotten into her, and she relaxes into the sheets. “I’m sorry,” she sighs. “I didn’t mean to attack you, I just—I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’m tired, but it feels like someone is gutting me, and my head is pulsing, and my skin feels too tight, and I’m—”

She breaks off, realizing what she was about to say, and then she wishes she could hide under the blankets. _Three days with him and this happens?_ A woman’s desire is not often talked about out loud unless it’s with other women, but even then it’s within the privacy of a room. Until the other night, she hadn’t even realized that someone could _feel_ that much pleasure, but who is she to demand it from her husband again? _That’s not how it works_ , she tries telling herself. _But he’s already shown you that things can be different_ , the little voice in the back of her mind says.

“You’re what?” Bellamy moves, propping himself up on his elbow while her head continues to rest on his arm and looks down at her. The sunlight shines onto his brown eyes and Clarke is captivated as she looks at them, watching the different flecks of gold shine in them. 

“I—” she swallows. _I have gone through a bunch of different emotions, haven’t I?_ “I want you to touch me,” she murmurs, and she watches as his gaze turns heavy, settling over her like a wool blanket. “But I don’t want to make you think that you ever have to, and I know we can’t right now,” she continues, all the while her face heats up even more. 

Bellamy leans forward, nuzzling her temple and causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. “If you ever want me to touch you, you just have to tell me.”

Clarke shivers, her hand fisting in the material of his clothes as he kisses her. She didn’t think it would work, but she should know by now that her husband is full of surprises. His hand bands across her hips, pressing her closer to his side as he squeezes.

“What do you want, love?”

She swallows, wondering if he can hear her racing heart. “I don’t know. We can’t do anything, because—”

“I believe there are still a few things we could do.” The hand that’s on her hip glides down her leg to slit in her dress, and he presses his fingers into her exposed skin.

“Bellamy,” she whimpers, and he hums as he moves her dress higher until her lower stomach is exposed. 

“Do you want me to stop?” She looks up at him and shakes her head before bringing her hand up and pulling him in to kiss her. His fingers draw light circles on her skin before they move further down towards her center, and Clarke presses her forehead into his shoulder.

“Have you ever done this before?”

“No,” he says softly, “but if you feel uncomfortable tell me. Okay?”

“Mhm.” He kisses her as his fingers find her clit, and Clarke moans from the light touch. It feels even more sensitive than it had when his mouth was on her, but she guesses she shouldn’t be surprised.

He applies more pressure, rubbing circles onto her and Clarke gasps. The dull ache that’s been inside of her all day begins to disappear as he touches her, and a new wave of warmth floods through her. _No one ever said it could happen like this_. Before she can even realize what’s happening, she loses the ability to kiss him back, and the soft moans and breathy sounds that once filled their bed chamber now fill his captain’s room. It’s quicker than she expected it to be, and then the familiar feeling of her lower stomach tightening is there and her body tenses, and all the while she can feel Bellamy watching as he looks down from his place propped above her.

She buries her face in his shoulder to keep anyone from hearing her as she comes, and Bellamy presses his face into her hair as he works her through the shocks that come after. _I feel a little better_. She’s still making soft noises when she wraps her arms around him and pulls him close as she sighs into his chest, and he wraps his arm around her.

It’s only when she’s able to actually form a coherent thought that she realizes that there’s something pressing into her hip, and she bites at her bottom lip when she realizes _what_ it is. Bellamy doesn’t seem like he notices it, though, from the way he’s slowly running his fingers through her hair, but she certainly does.

“What about you?” She murmurs, looking up at him, and leans back far enough to press a kiss to her forehead. 

“It’ll go away.”

 _Maybe he doesn’t want anything._ As soon as that thought crosses through her mind, it’s like she can hear Josephine laughing at her. _Come now, little cousin, even you can’t be that naive._

“I could help you.” 

Bellamy looks down at her, a soft smile spreading across his lips before he gives her a kiss. “Another time. When we’re in my bed and you’re feeling better.”

She wants to argue, but she doesn’t. She _does_ feel better, but not enough to where she’s sure she wouldn’t get tired. In fact, she can already feel herself getting tired, so she presses her lips together and nods her head before settling back against his chest. She wants to be enough for him, to know that he won’t take a mistress like some of the other kings. Her father didn’t, and from the way Bellamy has talked neither did his, and she wants to believe that he wouldn’t. But, something in her tells her that she knows he won’t. _He’s already told me that this won’t be like the other relationships I’ve heard about, so maybe I don’t have anything to worry about._

She falls back asleep wrapped in his arms, and the thought of the next three weeks doesn’t seem so daunting now.

~

Three weeks ago, the two of them boarded his ship on their way to his kingdom, and now Clarke stands at the bow of the ship, watching the land grow closer and closer. The sun is setting behind them, casting an orange glow on the white stone buildings off in the distance and she looks up as a flock of seagulls fly overhead towards the shore. _Before long, I’ll be meeting my family_. The thought doesn’t help her nerves, especially since, despite Bellamy’s assurances, she doesn’t know if they’ll accept her. 

From what he’s told her, his mother, Aurora, is a very head-strong woman who knows what she wants and will not sit idly by when she could do it herself, and his sister Octavia is the same way. His step-father, Marcus Kane, is a mild-mannered man and apparently used to be his father’s best friend and advisor before he passed. Bellamy told her that it was weird seeing his mother marry someone else when he was younger, but Marcus never made any move to usurp him or questioned his authority. That it seemed like he just wanted to tend to his fields and take care of his family.

“I’m sorry,” Bellamy begins as he comes to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, “if it’s not what you expected.”

“I think it’s wonderful.” Clarke leans back into his chest and smiles at the city rising before them. It’s not quite as big as her home, but it’s nowhere near small. There are trees peppering the hills, and various colored cloths covering the shops that line the roads, and the flowers look so beautiful. 

“Do you?” Bellamy presses his cheek against the side of her head.

“Mhm.”

“My mother always made sure that even if our place was not the biggest, it would make up for it in looks. Though, Octavia has a very bad habit of bringing in sick and wounded animals and ruining my mother’s vision”

Clarke laughs, bringing her hands up to cover his arms. “Will I wake up to a goat in our bed one morning?”

“No, I’ve made sure that Octavia knows that my room is off limits. No one else besides me and my nursemaid know what the inside of my room looks like.”

Clarke tilts her head to the side, looking up at him. “Another woman knows what your bedroom looks like? Am I going to have to compete with your nursemaid for your affection? You didn’t tell me that.”

Thankfully, Bellamy finds her amusing and he laughs, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She never would have considered herself funny, but she’ll take any laugh she can bring out of her husband. She enjoys hearing it. “You are the only one who has my heart,” he whispers into her ear. “And that will never change.”

Clarke turns around in her husband’s arms and brings him in for a kiss, melting against his chest as he cups the back of her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news! Chapters 4 and 5 are already done and I'm currently working on chapter 6, so at least the next two weeks are guaranteed updates :) Once again, thank you for all of the love you've given this story so far <3 it really means a lot
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	4. Chapter 4

When the ship moves to dock, Clarke takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. _It’s going to be okay. You’re Bellamy’s wife, and the queen, and from what he’s said you’ll get along well with them._ She takes another deep breath, and another, and then she can feel Bellamy’s hand wrap around her own and a wave of calmness envelopes her. When she looks up at him, Bellamy smiles down at her before bringing their intertwined hands up to kiss the back of hers. 

On the docks there is a large group of people waiting for them, and standing a few feet in front of the group is an older lady with brown hair and behind her is a man with dark brown hair and a beard that’s beginning to gray. _Aurora and Marcus_. The lady’s back is straight and her chin is high, but even from a distance Clarke can see the resemblance between Bellamy and his mother. 

Once the boat is tied and the ramp is placed, Bellamy guides Clarke towards it and they descend onto the pier. She didn’t get as seasick as she expected, but it still wasn’t the most pleasant journey she’s been on. Her hand tightens around Bellamy’s as they walk, and when their feet are on the sun-bleached wood of the pier, Clarke takes another deep breath. _Bellamy fought multiple men for me, and he met my mother and my father. I can meet his family. And live with them._ As they near the couple, Clarke notices that another dark-haired girl isn’t anywhere to be seen, and she wonders where Octavia is.

“Bellamy,” Aurora smiles, “I’m so glad you’re home.” 

“Me, too.” Bellamy leans forward and gives his mother a hug, not letting go of Clarke’s hand, before he looks to his step-father. “Marcus.”

“Bellamy.” The two men clasp hands, and Clarke smiles. Even though Marcus may not be his real father, Bellamy has told her how much Marcus has stepped up to try and guide him like any father would, and he’s still Bellamy’s advisor.

“Where’s Octavia?”

Aurora raises an eyebrow at her son. “Your sister is out hunting. She assured me she’d be here, but as you know timing has never been her strong suit.”

“No, it hasn’t.” Clarke looks up at Bellamy, and she’s surprised when he doesn’t seem upset that his little sister isn’t here to greet him. In fact, he looks the exact opposite. He’s told her a lot about Octavia’s untamable character, and it seems to be what he loves most about her. “Mother, Marcus, this is Princess Clarke of Arkadia,” Bellamy says, looking down at her, “my wife.”

Clarke bows, low and proper how she was taught, and when she straightens, she looks at Aurora. She watches as the other lady’s eyes take her in, her green-eyed gaze feeling as if she’s piercing Clarke with a knife but, then, she smiles. 

“We’re delighted to have you with us,” she says, reaching out to pull her into a hug. “When Bellamy wrote to us, I could hardly believe that you were willing to give up your home to come here.”

“Bellamy was prepared to give up his life here for me, it was only fitting that I should be willing to do the same.” Clarke smiles back. 

“Bellamy!” A voice calls, and the four of them turn to see a girl riding towards them on a brown horse and her hair blowing behind her in the wind. Clarke can even see a bow peeking out from over the girl’s shoulder as she pulls to a stop beside them, and Bellamy walks forward to help her down. _She looks like Artemis_. “You’re back!” 

Clarke’s heart swells as she watches the youngest Blake grin over her brother’s shoulder as she hugs him, and then her eyes find Clarke. When Bellamy lets his sister go, Octavia walks towards Clarke, and she can see the resemblance between her and her parents and her and her brother. Octavia’s green eyes stare into her like her mother’s before she pulls Clarke into a hug, too.

“Thank you for bringing him home.”

“Of course.”

When they pull apart, Octavia smiles at her, and then Aurora laces her arm through Clarke’s and guides her towards the castle. And Bellamy makes good on his statement that he would carry her through those doors, too.

~

Since the sun is setting, there are candles lit throughout the hallways and stairwells, and Clarke can’t seem to take everything in fast enough. _It’s not so different from my father’s_. The stones are white and bumpy, but the floors look like they’ve been freshly swept and there are no animals anywhere Clarke can see.

They are brought to the dining hall where there is an intricate feast that’s been placed out for them, and it’s almost as big as the one they received for their wedding night. Once again, she and Bellamy are placed at the two high chairs at the head of the room, but unlike her wedding day, she’s able actually eat. She doesn’t say much when it comes to joining in on the conversations since she knows that Bellamy has a lot to catch up on with his family, but she’s content to just eat as much as she can after spending weeks on the water. 

Once they’re done eating, Bellamy appears at Clarke’s side as they walk out of the dining hall and he wraps his arm around her waist, leaning towards her. “I have some things I need to talk to Kane about, but why don’t you explore and I’ll find you later.”

Clarke can’t help the way she deflates at his words, but she knew she couldn’t expect him to spend all of his time with her. He wasn’t even able to spend all of his time with her while they were on the ship because he needed to make sure that they were not veering off course. But, now, she’s at his home and she doesn’t know anyone around her. Bellamy seems to notice her dismay, because he leans forward and presses a kiss to her cheek, then when she turns her head towards her he gives her a proper, sweet kiss that steals her breath away.

“Octavia can show you around, but this won’t take me long, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispers, and Bellamy gives her another kiss.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” And with that, Bellamy turns and walks towards Marcus who is waiting for him down the hall. 

When she turns around, Octavia and Aurora come out of the doors, too, and they both smile at her. Octavia is the one who moves towards her first, and she links their arms together. 

“So, Clarke,” Aurora begins, sidling up next to them, “how are you feeling after your journey?”

“I’ve felt better, but the food helped a lot. Thank you.” 

“Have you been sick?” Octavia raises an eyebrow at her.

“Sea sick,” Clarke explains. “I don’t remember the last time I was on a ship and then—”

“And then you were sailing for three weeks,” Aurora finishes for her. “I got sick the first time my late husband took me out onto the water. It was dreadful, I could barely move until we docked again.”

“Father gets sick, too,” Octavia says with a smirk. “It seems like my brother and I are the ones who inherited the ability to sail without Poseidon cursing us.”

Aurora gives her daughter a look before she smiles at her, then she turns her attention back to Clarke. “I’m sure you miss your family.”

“Yes, I do.” _Some of them_. Clarke looks down at the stone floor, watching her dress move with her legs. “My father wished us well, but I don’t think he was entirely comfortable with me leaving.”

“And your mother?” Octavia asks.

“My mother…” Clarke trails off, biting the inside of her cheek. “My mother understood.” _I think_. “But, she’s never been too invested with the things that are going on around her. She prefers the water.”

“What about your cousin, Josephine?” Aurora raises an eyebrow. “I heard the two of you were close.”

_Who on earth told you that?_ “Josephine is...Josephine.” Clarke looks down at the floor again before looking up at the walls and the different decor that has been placed around the palace, and she doesn’t elaborate. 

One of the reasons she left her home, aside from wanting to make sure that Bellamy could come back to his, was so she wouldn’t have to constantly be reminded of how she was not her cousin. She’s spent her life hearing about how Josephine was better than her in nearly every way possible, and she didn’t want to listen anymore. Bellamy didn’t seem to want her to listen, either. After all, she’s happily married now to a wonderful man who is quite stunning, especially compared to Menelaus. Why should she have wanted to stay other than for her father? Harper came with her, and she’s the only other person she was close to.

The conversation drifts to the two other women talking about some of the things they do here in Ithaca. Like when to call for a bath, some of their favorite meals, the traditions they have, and how they all still celebrate the late King’s birthday. Which is something Aurora made sure continued as Bellamy grew up. It’s a lot to take in, especially when Clarke feels worn from her weeks on the water, but she’s happy. It seems like Aurora and Octavia both have already accepted her, which is the only thing she could have prayed for.

After a while, Aurora excuses herself, saying that she needs to go check on the men that came back with her and Bellamy on their journey, and it leaves her and Octavia alone. Octavia waves goodbye to her mother before starting back down the hall, and Clarke follows her. 

“Your brother speaks very highly of you,” she says as they make their way to a staircase.

“Why wouldn’t he?” Octavia grins at her over her shoulder. “I’m amazing.”

Clarke laughs, following her up the stairs. “You’re very confident.”

“With a family like mine it’s hard not to be.” Octavia grabs a torch that’s on the wall as they climb, and Clarke picks up her dress as they go up. “Bellamy always made sure I knew that I was stronger than most would have me believe. That if I wanted to learn how to sword fight or knock an arrow then I could, even if others disagreed. My mother also made sure that I knew that I did not need a husband to care for me when I was capable of taking care of myself. She raised my brother alone for years before she married my father, and she did a very good job at running the kingdom while she was at it. Though, I’ve heard things operate very differently in Arkadia.”

Before Clarke can answer, they reach a door at the top of the tower and Octavia turns around, looking down at her. Her emerald green eyes look like they’ve caught fire as the light is reflected in them, and she tilts her head to the side slightly. But, she doesn’t say anything, only turns around and pushes the large wooden door open. It creaks and squeaks as it moves, but when Clarke follows Octavia inside, she gasps.

From here, she can see the entire city below her. It’s taller than the window in her old room, and she can see all the way to the horizon where the moon is hanging above it. She can see various torches and fires lit along the roads, see the different colored cloths of the shops covered in moonlight, and if she listens well enough then she can hear the sound of some of the farm animals calling out in the night.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers, and Octavia moves to lean onto the window.

“I thought you might enjoy the view.”

“I do. Thank you.”

“Of course.” Octavia turns around and leans against the wall. “It’s a wonderful place to come when you need to think. Or hide from an angry mother.” She smirks.

Clarke chuckles as she moves closer to the window, peering down the ground right below them. “Back home, I would look out of my window and see how many people were walking around before I would take a secret path through the garden that led to the beach. I went there a lot over the years, mostly to hide from my cousin, but,” she looks over at Octavia, “this is a very good replacement.”

“Did your father not have you take guards? Or escorts?” Octavia raises an eyebrow at her, but Clarke can’t do anything as her cheeks heat up. “Don’t worry,” Octavia says, nudging her with her elbow, “your secret is safe with me. Though, I’m not sure Bellamy would care if he knew. He—”

“He does know,” Clarke says softly. “I went out to the beach the night before my competition and he saw me.”

“Did he know it was you?”

“He did. And, you’re right, he didn’t care.”

At that, Octavia smiles. It’s not a normal smile, but one similar to the smile Josephine would give her as if to say _I know something that you don’t_. “No, he wouldn’t.”

The two of them turn to look out at the window again and, for a moment, Clarke feels like she’s spent her entire life here. Like she _could_ spend her entire life here. She can see the rest of her and Bellamy’s lives spreading out before her, and it makes her happy. Beyond happy. Here, she can live her life with her husband and his family and however many kids they wish to have, all without the weight that was put on her back home.

“Come,” Octavia says, placing her hand on her shoulder, “my brother will be looking for you.”

Clarke follows her sister-in-law back down the spiraling staircase and into the hallway. There aren’t as many people walking around now that the banquet is over, but enough to where Clarke can feel their eyes weighing on her. She’s a stranger, so she knows that they’re curious about her, but she can’t bring herself to look at them. Instead, she follows Octavia’s lead and lifts her head up with her shoulders back and looks straight ahead, hoping that she’ll see her husband soon.

She must get caught up in her thoughts as she walks, because at some point she realizes that Octavia is no longer beside her and as she turns around, she yelps as someone wraps her up in their arms.

“Surprise,” Bellamy says, smiling down at her, and Clarke lets out a long breath as she sinks into his chest.

“You scared me.” She draws in a deep breath and lets it out again. 

“I’m sorry.” He leans down and kisses her cheek. “And I’m also sorry it took me so long. Did you enjoy talking with my mother and sister?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “It was nice. Octavia even showed me the tower she says she hides in from your mom.”

“She’s always been a very good hider.” Bellamy continues to smile down at her, and Clarke presses her hands against his chest as she leans into him. “Now, it’s my turn to take you on a tour.”

The way he looks at her as he says it has Clarke’s body humming with anticipation. She’s come to recognize that look over the past few weeks, and it’s one that she loves. Bellamy continues to smile at her as he leans down and gives her a kiss that makes her lips tingle and sends warmth spreading throughout her body. He lifts his hand from her waist to cup the back of her neck, deepening the kiss as he runs his tongue over her bottom lip, and Clarke lets him in. She would like to think that her kissing abilities have improved since their wedding night, and from the way Bellamy pulls her closer when she nips at his bottom lip she wonders if he feels the same way. 

Sounds of other people walking through the hallway catch her attention and she pulls back, heat flooding her cheeks as she peeks around Bellamy’s shoulder. There, walking down the hall towards them are four maids, and they’re staring at the two of them. _They do not look very happy_. Bellamy looks at them too when they walk by, but then he turns his attention back to Clarke.

“Are you okay?” 

“They saw us,” she whispers, putting her forehead against his chest. _How could I let myself get carried away?_

“All they saw was me adoring my beautiful wife.” He kisses her temple, then the side of her head, and she peeks up at him through her lashes. 

“You wanted to give me a tour, your majesty?” 

Bellamy’s eyes darken as he looks down at her, and he kisses the corner of her mouth before grabbing her hand and guiding her down the hall. 

They move through the corridors, taking turns and walking past windows that give them a view of the world below them, but not without Bellamy turning and giving her a kiss whenever he could. _I wonder if this is how he looked when he was younger and exploring the castle_. The idea of a small Bellamy with wild black hair and freckles that would melt anyone’s heart running around the castle with a smile on his face makes her smile. _I want our son to look like him._

Eventually, they come to stop in front of a large, dark wood door, and Bellamy smiles down at her. “Welcome, to your new room.” 

He pushes the door open and motions for her to go in, and Clarke keeps ahold of his hand as she does. Her eyes widen when she sees what’s in the center of the far wall, and a smile spreads across her face. There, in Bellamy’s room, is the most magnificent bed she’s ever seen. _It looks like it’s been carved from a tree._ There are roots that seem to disappear into the floor, though she’s sure it’s just an illusion, and in the center of the tree is his mattress. All of it is weaved in such a way that it seems like it was made to hold a bed, and she’s not surprised it’s Bellamy’s.

“It’s wonderful,” she breathes, and she can hear the door shut behind her as Bellamy’s arms wrap around her waist.

“Do you really like it?” He asks, pressing his cheek against her head, and her smile widens.

“Bellamy, I love it. How did you do it?”

“It took a very long time, but I could never seem to pull myself away from the woods when I was younger. Even after the boar attack, so I thought—”

“You would bring it inside with you?” 

Bellamy laughs softly against her ear. “Yes, I suppose so.”

She turns slightly in his arms, resting her head against his shoulder as she looks up at him. “Why has no one else seen it?”

He bites at his lower lip, and Clarke can’t help but watch as it slides from under his teeth, leaving white marks on the pink skin. “Well, I’m not entirely sure. It seemed personal, intimate,” he looks down at her. “Perhaps I thought if no one knew but I heard someone talking about it then I would know they had been in my room, and then I could treat them accordingly.”

_That’s understandable_. “I didn’t like anyone coming into my room, either. And Josephine had a very bad habit of not knocking.” She grumbles the last bit, and Bellamy only chuckles again before he gives her a quick kiss.

“How are you feeling?”

“I believe you’ve asked me that question more times than you’ve told me I’m beautiful and that is quite a feat since you’ve said the latter about a handful of times a day since we were married.” She means it to be teasing, but she’s met with rosy-pink cheeks and a husband who looks at her through his black eyelashes like he’s embarrassed. She turns around in his arms completely, placing one hand on his shoulder while the other cups the side of his face and he leans into it, giving it a kiss. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t upset me.” He gives her a small smile before pulling her closer, and she looks up at him. His freckles seem like they’ve darkened over their journey, and his hair has gotten slightly longer, too. Enough to where his curls are even more pronounced than they already were. “I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable, and I realize that I may have been sounding repetitive,” his smile widens, “but I really can’t help myself when you are the most breathtaking and enchanting woman I have ever met.”

Clarke can feel a lump rise in her throat as her heart swells for the man in front of her. She leans up, pressing her lips to his, and hums when Bellamy’s fingers move into her hair. She loves when he holds her like this, and she loves when he plays with her hair. Any embarrassment or negative feelings that Bellamy was feeling seem to melt away, and Clarke splays her fingers out over his chest as she feels his heartbeat beneath them. _You are the only one who has my heart_. His voice echoes in her mind, and Clarke tries to pull him closer, wanting to show him that he is the only one who has hers.

“To answer your question, my dear husband,” she murmurs against his lips, “I feel wonderful.”

“Then let's see if I can make you feel even better.” Bellamy bends down and picks her up, and Clarke wastes no time wrapping her legs around his waist, tangling her fingers in his hair. He seems to like picking her up, making her feel weightless, like a bird gliding through the sky, and she has to say, she quite likes it. 

He lays her down gently onto his bed, and Clarke can see the small twigs and leaves decorating the ceiling above them before Bellamy’s face comes into view. She loves the way he looks when they’re like this. Especially when there’s candlelight shining on him. His hair hangs down, touching her forehead when he leans in to kiss her, and when he lays himself on top of her, she moans just from the feeling. He holds her head in his hands, caging her in with his arms, and Clarke smiles as she tightens her legs around him. As much as she enjoys seeing him between her legs, and the way he makes her feel when he is, she just wants to feel him now. She needs to. 

“What do you want, love?”

_Gods, those words_. She loves those words. Clarke kisses him sweetly, running her nose along his as she combs her fingers through his hair. “I want to feel you,” she murmurs, and Bellamy presses a searing kiss to her lips.

He’s gotten her to open up a little about whenever she wants something from him, but she’s never said anything more than _I want you to touch me_ or _I want to feel you_. Though, both of them are good enough to where Bellamy has picked up on what she means exactly when she says them. Perhaps over time she’ll feel more confident to where she’ll ask for more, but for right now this is perfect.

Bellamy kisses the corner of her mouth, then her jaw, making his way down to her neck as one of his hands moves to the ribbon that’s around her waist. With a single, soft tug she can feel the material loosen from around her, and Bellamy pulls back to where he can sit on his heels. He unwraps the ribbon before he pulls it off her, and then he finds the fold in her dress and begins to open it. 

He’s always so affectionate when he undresses her, touching her softly, trailing his fingers along her skin, kissing every part he exposes...He runs his hands up her side, his thumbs skirting around her stomach before reaching her breasts and running them along the bottoms. Her dress falls down on the sides, and she holds her breath as Bellamy takes her in. It’s something, she’s come to realize, that he likes doing. Like he’s trying to memorize every part of her, almost as if she’ll disappear one day. 

Bellamy holds out his hands and she takes them as she sits up, causing her dress to fall away completely from around her arms and pooling at her waist, and she runs her hands up his still-covered stomach. She slides one hand over his shoulder, holding onto him as she pulls at the string on his robes with the other. She can feel Bellamy’s breath fan out across her face as she works, and when she pushes his clothes away, he scoops her up in his arms. 

Her breasts flatten out against his chest and Bellamy’s hand splays between her shoulder blades as he dips his tongue into her mouth. Bellamy consumes her, his mouth on her, his hands holding her close, the sheets on his bed bunching under her legs, and just the whirlwind feeling that is Bellamy Blake. The hand that’s on her hip leaves and suddenly what remains of her dress is pulled from under her and she can hear the light material land on the floor before he’s pressing her back into the pillows.

When Clarke opens her eyes to look at him, it feels as if the air has been knocked from her chest. _Maybe he really is Apollo_. Bellamy nuzzles her nose with his, and she smiles as she pulls him closer for a kiss. She can feel him pressing against her thigh, and she opens her legs wider as a silent invitation. 

Like their wedding night, Bellamy props himself above her, but instead of grabbing himself, he sticks two of his fingers into his mouth before sinking them into her. Clarke arches under him, a low moan falling off her lips as he pumps his fingers in her. He crooks them and Clarke can feel the wetness pooling between her legs as he works her, specks of light beginning to dance at the edges of her vision. 

When she begins to writhe under him, Bellamy pulls out his fingers and she watches through heavy-lidded eyes as he slips them into his mouth. It shocked her at first that he would _want_ to do that, but then she remembered that he told her he liked tasting her. He lowers himself back down and Clarke wraps herself around him again as he grabs himself and presses into her with a kiss. She can taste herself on his tongue, and she gasps when he’s fully inside of her. 

It’s only been three weeks, so her body is still getting used to the feeling of having him in her, but _gods_ she could stay here forever. Bellamy buries his face in her neck as she clenches and unclenches around him, and the small noises that escape her lips only makes him hold her tighter. 

“ _Bellamy_ ,” she murmurs, and he kisses her. 

“I think this is my favorite place to be,” he whispers against her lips, and she shivers under him.

He pulls out slightly before pressing back in, and Clarke’s eyes flutter closed at the feeling. He does it again, then again, picking up his pace with each thrust and Clarke’s moans and whimpers get louder and louder. She presses her face into his neck, sucking at his pulse point like he does hers, and she can taste the salt that’s still on his skin from the sea. Bellamy moans, picking up his pace even more until Clarke is pretty sure she’ll be sore when she wakes up, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

He moves his hands, unhooking her arms from around his neck and threading their fingers together. He presses her into the mattress even more, and the feeling of him surrounding her overwhelms her. He kisses her neck, her cheek, and then he trails kisses towards her ear and tugs her earlobe between his teeth. _He hasn’t done that before_. The feeling is different, and it makes the hairs on her skin stand up as she sighs. The familiar tension begins to build in her lower stomach, and she can feel the warmth wanting to spread throughout her body. 

“Bellamy,” she moans, tilting her hips until it feels like he’s hitting deeper within her. He shifts again, and she holds the side of his neck as he reaches between them and presses his thumb to her clit. “ _Oh_ , _Bell—”_ her voice gets caught in her throat and she tries to swallow to fix it, but she can’t. 

“That’s it, Clarke.” She opens her eyes to Bellamy watching her, and she bites at her bottom lip as she thinks about what she’s feeling. His chest rubbing against hers, his hands holding her, the feeling of his breath against her skin, his lips…

Clarke builds higher and higher and when Bellamy sucks at her neck, she falls apart under him. She clenches around Bellamy like a vice and he groans deeply, pressing his forehead into hers. She opens her eyes and watches as he follows, coming inside of her. Clarke hums at the feeling, and Bellamy releases her hand so she can wrap it around his shoulders, holding him while she comes down. 

They lay there for a while, with Bellamy rubbing his thumb along her shoulder as she traces patterns on his back with her fingernails. Getting to be with him like this is one of her favorite parts, holding each other as close as any two people can, and Bellamy presses a kiss to her chest before he pulls out and settles beside her. 

Clarke sighs contentedly as she curls into his chest, and Bellamy kisses the top of her head. “I’m glad we came here,” she says softly.

“Me, too.” Bellamy rolls onto his side, flattening his hand against her back. 

He smiles softly at her as they look at each other, and she can feel herself blush under his gaze. She figured she wouldn’t after a while, and especially not after what they just did, but she is and she can’t help it. 

“You know,” he begins softly, “everyone has a hidden door within them. A door that leads into their heart.” Clarke bites at her bottom lip as she trails a finger from his collarbone to his chest. 

“Do I have a hidden door into my heart?” She asks, looking up at him. “Have you found it?”

“That is for you to tell me, love.” Bellamy trails her hand up and over her arm, his fingers grazing over her skin. 

“Then, do you have a door in your heart as well? And have I found it?” Her voice is light when she asks, something she realizes only Bellamy can bring out of her, and leans forward, pressing a kiss to her lips. 

“You already hold the key. All you have to do is use it.” 

Clarke looks at him for a moment, wondering how she could have captured his heart so quickly, but then she thinks of how she feels about him and she understands. He feels like the other part of her that she’s been missing, even after only three weeks, and now that she’s with him she couldn’t imagine life without him. He is hers, and she is his, and she wants to spend the rest of her life just like this. 

Clarke leans forward and wraps her husband up in another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, they're in Ithaca! The story is just beginning :)
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please keep in mind the time period**

The following morning after their first night in Ithaca, Clarke woke up to Bellamy carrying a tray of food into the room and he smiled at her before sliding into bed beside her. And that’s how it’s gone since then. She wakes up to Bellamy carrying in breakfast for the two of them and they spend some time together before he kisses her and heads to meet Kane, and then she’s left alone. Well, not _alone_ necessarily, since Harper usually comes in not long after and helps her get ready for the day, and then she tries to find Octavia or Aurora. But, even though the two other women usually have tasks that they need to do, both of them welcome her with open arms and try to pull her into whatever it is they’re working on. 

It’s been nice getting to spend so much time with them, and Clarke can feel herself beginning to open up. Like how she would talk with Wells and sometimes with her father. They must have noticed it, too, because at one point, Aurora stopped writing and looked at her, a smile still on her face from when she was laughing and said _It seems as if Ithaca has been good for you, dear_. And Clarke couldn’t help but agree. She feels better than she had during her time in Arkadia. She feels like she’s gained a new home. Though, it’s not without its drawbacks.

She knew that women must have fallen to their knees with Bellamy, but it’s one thing to believe it and another to see it. Any time she sees him walking down the halls, she doesn’t miss the way the women can't seem to take their eyes off him and they follow his every move, smiling at him and batting their eyelashes when he walks by, and giggling to themselves when he’s out of sight. She knows it shouldn’t bother her as much as it does, but she can’t help it. She’s the one that’s married to him, and she’s the one that gets to share a bed with him and have him touch her and whisper things to her when everyone else is asleep, but still...it unnerves her. She also knows that, as a king, he has a duty to treat his people with kindness, but she still can’t help but think that his smile seems to get a little more charming when it’s a woman who appears before him. 

Despite Clarke’s want to find Aurora or Octavia and get her mind off the fact that she had to watch Bellamy talk to a woman from the city who was clearly trying to goad him into looking at her in more...intimate places, today is a day where she can’t seem to find anyone. She’s checked Aurora’s study, where she knows that Aurora likes to spend most of her time, and she didn’t see her. She wasn’t in the throne room, and neither was Octavia, she checked the kitchens, and she even ventured up to the tower that Octavia showed her but the younger Blake was nowhere to be found.

Sighing, Clarke heads back down the stairs and decides to make her way to the garden. She used to love spending time in the one at her home, but she hasn’t been able to enjoy the one here in Ithaca yet. The bright sun wraps her up in a blanket of warmth as soon as she steps out from the covered walkway, and she tilts her face up to it for a moment before she walks towards the garden. It’s not as hot as it used to be, but it’s also not cold enough to where she wishes she had a cloak. There are different colored flowers lining the walkway, with a few tall ones beginning to lean out in front of her. 

She holds her hand out, letting it run against the velvety petals of the different colored flowers, and loving the smell that engulfs her as she goes. It’s not as big as the garden back in Arkadia but she has to say, it certainly looks prettier. She begins to hum as she walks, only noticing later that there are about five maids already in the garden, and they’re picking some of the flowers and putting them into their baskets.

“She has to know what he’s done,” one of the maids says, and Clarke stops humming. “She is his wife after all.”

“I would not assume such things,” another says. “We all know how well the king can keep his actions hidden.”

“What did you say?” Clarke stops walking, turning her attention fully to the maids a few feet away from her, and they all turn towards her and bow.

“We’re sorry, your majesty,” a third girl says.

“We did not mean to interrupt your walk,” says a fourth.

“Do not be coy. I asked you, what did you say?” Her voice is hard when she speaks, and the maids cast their eyes down.

“We said that we all know how well the king can keep his actions hidden,” one of the girls admits. 

“That is a very bold statement to make about your king.” Clarke lifts her chin, looking at them. “What actions?” 

“It’s not our place to speak on it, your majesty.” 

“And yet, you are.” Clarke raises an eyebrow at the maids, and they look between each other before looking at Clarke and then back down. “So, I’ll ask again. _What actions?”_

“The king has many who admire him, both men and women alike,” one of the girls starts. “But there are some who get too close, only to have their hearts broken.” The maid’s mouth turns down and her eyebrows furrow together, like she’s trying to control her emotions. 

“A few have caught the king’s eye, but one of them, a daughter of a high ranking man, fell into his arms and it ruined her. Others have been more fortunate, but some...” she trails off, looking at the other girls around her. “Some never recover.”

“I see.” Clarke raises her chin, looking at them. “And how did you come to find out this information?” 

“It’s not very hard, your majesty. Over time, people talk.”

“Especially when the king will tell Lady Aurora he will be in one place and then go another.” 

“Yes, that’s true. It’s known that the king will hide that he goes to the local tavern from her.”

“And no one has brought it up to her?” Clarke raises an eyebrow, and the girls all duck their heads again.

“We would never go against the king.” 

Clarke takes a silent, deep breath and then lets it out slowly, though that does nothing for her racing heart. _He’s ruined someone?_ _Why has no one told me? Who was it?_

Drawing herself to her full height, Clarke inclines her head. “Thank you, for the enlightenment. Now, back to your duties.” 

There’s a chorus of “yes, your majesty,” and then the maids return to their pruning as Clarke turns and continues her walk through the garden. _He lies about where he’s going?_ Clarke looks down at the ground, watching the dirt kick up around her feet as she moves. _The way the maids spoke...as if they—_ Clarke presses her lips together, willing herself to push away the thought before it goes any further. Of course, many will take the maids as they see fit, a few even taking them as their mistresses, but Bellamy... _he doesn’t seem like the type of man who would do that._

_Oh, little cousin. You’ve only known him for a few weeks,_ Josephine’s voice sounds in her head, _despite all of the talking you may do, you will never truly know him_. 

Clarke stops when she gets to the bottom of the walkway and looks back up at the castle. _Should I find him?_ As soon as the thought enters her mind, it’s like she can feel a weight being pressed into her chest. _I don’t know if I could even look at him_. 

“The maids could be lying,” she whispers to herself. _But why would they say he ruined the daughter of a nobleman?_

The weight—the _pain_ —threatens to consume her, and Clarke straightens herself as she tries to drag in a deep breath. _All you have to do is talk to him_.

Another deep breath.

_All you have to do is talk to him._

She starts back towards the castle, but not to find her husband. A woman’s chastity is her livelihood, if she loses it before her marriage she will become _nothing_ . Clarke’s heart beats loudly in her ears as she makes her way back inside, but the thought of where she should go escapes her. She can’t go to their bedchamber. If he finds her there she’s not sure what she would do. She’s in no state to see him like this. _How could he do that to her?_ Tears spring to her eyes over the pain she feels for a girl she’s never met. _A girl who got too close and had her heart broken._

_How could he do that? Was he supposed to marry her?_

That thought does not make her feel much better. Clarke blinks her eyes a couple of times as she walks down the deserted hall. _Could I bring myself to ask him?_ A door opens and Clarke freezes, she knows that no one can see her like this or else Bellamy will surely be told and then he’ll wonder what’s gotten into her and she needs time to think. She turns around, deciding that if she’s walking in the opposite direction then whoever it is won’t bother her. Thankfully, she can only hear one set of footsteps walking behind her and then:

“Your majesty?” Relief floods her as Clarke hears Harper’s voice and she turns around to look at her, her eyes beginning to sting from unshed tears. Harper’s eyes widen as she looks at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Harper—” Clarke’s voice breaks, and her friend—her only friend she has from her previous life—rushes towards her, grabbing her hand.

“Come, let’s get you somewhere away from prying eyes.” Clarke lets her friend lead her down the hallway and then they’re on a familiar path. The one that leads to their bedchamber.

“I don’t want to go to the room.”

_Was that where it happened? Did he lie about him and his nursemaid being the only two who know about it?_

Harper nods her head before she guides Clarke around another corner, then another, and then they’re coming upon the stairs that lead to the tower Octavia showed her. Clarke nods towards the stairs and Harper guides her towards it, the two of them beginning the journey up.

When the tower door is closed behind them, Clarke places one hand on her stomach and the other on her mouth as she finally lets out the tears that have been trying to escape. She knows she shouldn’t be so emotional, after all, it’s normal for a prince, and especially a king, to do what he pleases, _but with everything he said_...Clarke sinks to her knees and Harper kneels beside her, wrapping her up in her arms. The last time they did this was the day Wells left, and then she thought she couldn’t feel anymore alone, but she was wrong.

“Clarke,” Harper whispers, “what happened?”

The question only makes Clarke want to cry more. _How could I have been so naive? So trusting? He said that he wanted a real relationship, one based on love and trust, but how could I do that when he’s already lied to someone else?_

“Bellamy,” she sniffles, trying to bite back the rest of the tears that are forming, but she can’t bring herself to say anything else before she begins crying even harder.

“Did he hurt you?” Clarke doesn’t have to look at her friend to know that she’s angry. 

“N—no, he didn’t hurt me.” Clarke swallows around the pain in her throat, wiping away her tears. “I ov—overheard the maids talking. Bell—” she takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself and this time Harper wipes away her tears. “They said that Bellamy has left people heartbroken, that he ruined the daughter of a high-ranking man. That he lies about where he says he’s going to go and visits the tavern.” Clarke tilts her head up towards the roof, closing her eyes. “ _Gods_ , how could I be so stupid?”

“Don’t say that—”

“Josephine was right. I’m too trusting, too naive to understand that not everything can be the way I want it.” Clarke shakes her head. “Why am I so upset? Of course, when he told me that he wanted things to be different I wanted to believe him. I _did_ believe him. But men have shown time and time again that they will say anything if it means pleasing the girl they want to have.”

“I believe the maids are jealous of you,” Harper says, and Clarke looks at her friend. “ _You_ are the queen. _You_ are the one who caught Bellamy’s eye and captured his heart. No one could look at the two of you and believe that he’s not madly in love with you. Do you understand that?”

“From the way they talked, they know what it’s like to share a bed with him, too.” Clarke looks down, playing with the hem of her dress. “I thought that maybe I was the only one who he—” her cheeks heat up, and more tears threaten to escape as Harper pulls her back into a hug. 

And that’s how they stay. Up in the tower, no one bothers them and it gives Clarke time to think. She knows that she’ll have to talk to Bellamy about it at some point, but the thought of doing it now...she doesn’t know if she could stand before him and act as if she’s not hurt. She may be the queen, but despite her hopes she now knows that she will never be the king’s first in anything. Perhaps giving him an heir, but nothing else. She let herself believe that he was the first person who he loved, but she isn’t. She’s just another girl in the list of girls who’ve gotten to experience what it’s like to sleep with the King of Ithaca.

When the sun sets, the horns sounding Princess Octavia’s arrival fills the air and Clarke knows that dinner will be starting soon, but she can’t bring herself to eat. She doesn’t even want to stand but Harper pulls her to her feet, promising to get her into bed and tell the others that she’s not feeling well. It’s not ideal, since Clarke knows Bellamy will undoubtedly come and check on her, but she feels tired and lying in bed sounds better than nothing.

“Things will work out, Clarke,” Harper whispers as she braids her hair.

“I do not think anything can work this out,” she mumbles, and Harper catches her eye in the mirror.

“I have a feeling that you might be wrong.” 

Despite the pain that’s pulling at her chest, the corner of Clarke’s mouth still turns up as she looks at her friend. Her father didn’t want her to bring Harper, since he was worried that she might catch Bellamy’s eye instead, but Clarke assured him that nothing would happen. Harper would cut anyone before they touch her. Even if he is a king.

Once Clarke is in bed and the door is shut, she’s not lying there long when someone walks in, but she doesn’t have to open her eyes to know it’s Bellamy. His footsteps are soft as he walks towards her, but it’s the sound of his knee popping that tells her he’s kneeling beside the bed. She opens one of her eyes and immediately her heart aches, but she forces herself not to cry as she looks at him.

_He looks so worried_. Bellamy pouts slightly at her before he reaches out and places a hand to her cheek, then her forehead, and then he runs it up and down her arm. “Harper said you weren’t feeling well,” he murmurs. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Her voice comes out rough, and she tries to clear her throat. “I went for a walk and I believe the heat was too much for me.”

“Do you need anything? Some water?”

“No,” she whispers. “I’m just tired.”

“Okay.” Bellamy’s eyes search her face for a moment, before he leans forward and presses a kiss to her temple. “I should get back to dinner, but I’ll try not to wake you when I’m done.”

“Okay.” Clarke looks away from him, finding it difficult to look at him directly, and Bellamy squeezes her arm before leaning forward and giving her a soft kiss.

“Are you sure there’s nothing else?” He asks as his eyebrows knit together, and Clarke looks at him for a beat before she nods.

“I just need some rest.”

“Take all the rest you need, love.” He picks her hand up and gives it a kiss, too, before he stands and walks back towards the door.

Once it shuts behind him, Clarke lets out a quick breath before the pain engulfs her and she begins to cry as quietly as she can. She buries her face into her pillow, hoping that no one comes across their door and hears the sounds of the Queen’s broken heart.

~

Avoiding Bellamy proves to be more difficult than Clarke anticipated, especially since her being sick only makes him want to be around her more. She shouldn’t be as surprised as she is, though, since he catered to her every need their first week on their trip here. He still brings her breakfast, but Clarke has taken to trying to sleep afterwards with the promise that she’ll feel better when she wakes up, but when she wakes up she immediately has to empty the contents of her stomach. Harper is usually there at that time, so she’s able to help Clarge get cleaned up before she has to talk to anyone else.

This goes on for a week, which gives Clarke enough time to try and come up with an idea for how she can approach the subject with Bellamy, but every time she tries to do it, she can’t. Her stomach drops, her heart aches, and the pain she’s been trying to hide comes back in full force as she changes her decision and begins talking to him about something else. 

She is able to sit through dinner, not saying much but eating the soup that’s been prepared for her since Aurora was adamant about getting more liquids into her body, and when it’s all said and done Bellamy gives her a kiss before telling her that he still has work he needs to do. She tells him okay, but on her way to their room the pain that she’s been feeling a lot the past week comes back, and by the time she reaches their room she can no longer contain her sobs. 

As much as she wants to believe that he is doing the work that he says he needs to do, the maids’ voices echo in her mind, telling her that he’s known for lying. She can barely get into her nightgown before she’s falling onto the bed, pulling a pillow to her chest. _He’s been so busy since we came here, but that’s to be expected. Isn’t it? He’s a king. He has a country to run, people to rule, complaints to listen to. Surely he can’t be lying about that?_

Her heartache feels like it’s going to swallow her whole, so intense that she doesn’t hear the door open or feel her husband slide into bed beside her. 

“Clarke? What happened? What’s wrong?” Bellamy’s voice makes her want to cry even more, and when his hand comes out to touch her arm, she hates how warm he always feels. He pulls her back a little, trying to roll her over, but Clarke holds tight to her pillow and stays where she is. “Clarke.” Bellamy’s voice is rough when he says her name. “Please, talk to me.”

“I don’t—” Another sob racks her body and then Bellamy’s arm comes around her, pulling her into his chest as he buries his face in her hair. There’s no way she can’t tell him now, but she wishes she could force herself away from him. But she can’t. She wants to curl into him and have him take away her pain. For him to kiss her and tell her that he loves her. But she doesn’t know if she would be able to listen to him say that without ever thinking he was lying.

When her sobs begin to soften and it feels like there are no more tears left to cry, Clarke can feel Bellamy’s fingers tracing lines on her skin as he runs them up and down her arm. “Love,” he murmurs, his voice still rough, “can you talk to me?”

Clarke screws her eyes shut, praying to the gods for any strength they can give her to get through this conversation, but she feels nothing. “Where were you?” Her voice comes out broken and sad, something she hasn’t experienced in a long time, and Bellamy tightens his hold on her.

“I was with Marcus, we had some trading agreements to go through before the messenger leaves tomorrow afternoon.” Bellamy’s arm tightened around her. “I’m sorry, I should have come back with you. I know you haven’t been feeling well—”

“No—” Clarke stopped him, inhaling deeply through her nose before letting it out slowly. “Yes, I haven’t been feeling well, but not for the reasons I’ve told you,” she whispers.

“Are you homesick?” He asks, and Clarke’s heart lurches. _He sounds so sincere_.

“No—yes, but that’s not it,” she whispers, and Bellamy shifts behind her.

“Can you tell me what it is?”

“I—” she swallows, “I talked to the maids, a week ago, and they…told me things.”

“Things?” He echoes.

“About you.”

Bellamy’s arm doesn’t move from around her when he says, “What kind of things?”

“They—they said,” Clarke takes another deep breath. “They said that there was a girl, a daughter of a well-respected official, who you—who you laid with.” Bellamy’s fingers still. “They say she was ruined and heartbroken and from the way they talked, they felt the same.” She mumbles the last part, and she can hear Bellamy suck in a breath before he swears under his breath.

“Which maids?” His voice is deathly low.

That was _not_ the question Clarke was expecting, and it causes her to tear up again. “Bellamy—”

“They can’t say something like this—”

“Why? Because it would ruin _you_?” Clarke turns around to look at him, her voice hard. “You’re the _king_ , not a girl that will have her life ruined by sleeping with someone who she believes loves her.”

As she looks at him, the anger that accompanied his low voice dissipates into sadness, and she looks away from him as her tears begin to roll down her cheeks again. “Do you really think I would do something like that?”

Clarke doesn’t answer, she _can’t_ answer as she tries to bite back her sobs, so Bellamy continues. “There was a girl, yes.” _Gods_. Clarke cries even harder, and even though she tires to force herself to move away from him, she lets him pull her towards him. “Her name was Echo,” he says softly, “she was Kane’s niece who came to live with him after his sister died.”

_Do I want to hear this?_

“We were friends. She was the only other child around the castle that wasn’t afraid of me. Or my status, to be more precise.” Bellamy’s fingers find their way into her hair and he begins to massage her scalp, and Clarke can’t fight her eyelids as they flutter closed at the sensation. “We grew up together. She was my best friend, but I never thought about her in that way.” Bellamy takes a deep breath. “When we were younger, about ten years ago, we ran through the wheat fields one day, and we kissed. I’m not sure if it’s her who moved first, or if I did, but it happened. I should have known that it would have ended poorly, but I was young.

“By the time next morning came, it was all anyone would talk about. She was questioned, as was I, but no matter what we said we couldn’t undo what had happened. She was sent to live with Kane’s cousin in a different country, and I never saw her again.” Bellamy leaned his forehead against the top of her head. “I will not sit here and tell you that I have not done things I don’t regret, but I will also not lie and say that I regret kissing her.”

“Because you realized you loved her?”

“Because I realized I didn’t.” That gets her attention and Clarke tilts her head up to look at him. “I cared for her, yes, but not in the way you think. I wanted the best for her, but I could not love her in the way she wanted. The way she deserved. I will think about her from time to time, but only because I wonder if she found the life that she always talked of having, nothing more.”

Clarke looks away from him, running her finger along the soft material of his robe. “So, you never slept with her then?”

“Never.” Bellamy’s voice is sure when he says it, and then his fingers are there, lifting her face up to his. “You are the only woman I have ever been with who had never been with another. I would never have jeopardized a girl’s future—ruin her, as you put it—for my own selfish desires, but I must tell you that I never _wanted_ another.”

Clarke nods, forcing herself to keep looking at him. His brown eyes are bright in the candlelight, reminding her of all the nights they’ve shared here. “And the maids?”

“The maids are devious.” He shakes his head. “I’m sure that they assumed by telling you that I touched them it would make you miserable. I’ll deal with them, you have my word.” Clarke nods again, looking from his eyes to the dimple in his chin, and Bellamy leans forward, pressing his forehead against hers. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, “for doubting you.”

“In your place, it’s understandable.” He kisses her between her eyebrows, and Clarke clutches to his clothes. “Is there anything else?”

“Um…” Clarke swallows, wondering if she should tell him, but she doesn’t want there to be any secrets between the two of them. “They also said you had a reputation of lying to your mother and visiting the tavern.”

Bellamy chuckles. “Of course, they did.” He sighs, leaning back and running his hand through his hair. “Yes, when I was younger I didn’t want my mother to know that I was going with my men and getting drunk—”

“And finding company?”

“Sometimes, yes,” he says slowly, but even though it doesn’t help her still-aching heart, she already knew about that. “Clarke,” he begins, turning back towards her, and she looks up at him, “everything I’ve told you, I’ve meant. You make me happier than I’ve ever felt, and you’ve shown me a different way to look at the world in just a few weeks. I want you to love me, to trust me, and if I ever do anything to hurt you or upset you I want you to tell me. I meant when I said I want to take care of you, and I can’t tell you how much it hurt to see you crying when I walked in here tonight.” He cups the side of her face and new tears threaten to spill, but for an entirely different reason now. 

A few more tears slip from her eyes, and Bellamy wipes them away. “I do love you, Bellamy,” she murmurs, and she can see his eyes begin to shine.

“I love you, too.” He leans forward, giving her a sweet kiss that makes her body hum before he wraps her back up in his arms. 

~

In the days following their conversation, Clarke feels better, lighter, and she notices a change in Bellamy, too. The way his smile seems a little brighter, and how he laughs a little louder, and how he seems incapable of keeping his hands to himself. He’s even begun inviting her to his meeting with Marcus, showing her all of the things they’ve been doing, and then pulling her into his lap whenever his step-father leaves the room. It’s perfect, except for the fact that she still can’t seem to hold down her breakfast. She thought that it would subside after her talk with Bellamy, but it hasn’t.

After this morning, which ended with Harper finding her heaving on the floor with her arms wrapped around a bucket, her friend finally convinced her to visit the healer, Nyko. She answered a few questions, her hand never leaving Harper’s as the man looked her over, but in the end she left the room feeling like she couldn’t be any happier. _I need to find Bellamy_. She’s kept her sickness from him, which she’s sure he won’t be happy about, but she knows he could never stay upset with her.

She makes her way towards the throne room, since she remembers him saying something about being there in the afternoon, but when she reaches the doors, she stops. She can hear him talking, but she’s not sure to whom. Clarke doesn’t enter the room, but she opens the door slightly and peeks in, and it’s clear that no one realizes she’s even there because no one looks at her. 

She watches as Bellamy paces in front of his throne, his white robes making his skin look even darker, and his golden leaf crown sitting on top of his black curls as he looks down at the maids in front of him. _Twelve of them?_

“Do you care to explain yourselves?” His voice is hard, a lot different than anything she’s heard from him since the night they met.

“We did not mean any harm, your majesty.” One girl says.

“Harm?” Bellamy echoes. “You’ve spread lies! Hearsay!” The maids’ heads move further down, like they’re trying to will the floor to swallow them up. “Do you understand why you’re here?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“Would anyone like to explain why?” He asks, but no one answers. Bellamy’s eyes look like they have a fire burning behind them, and while that look is certainly never something Clarke would want to be on the receiving end of, she can’t deny that he looks beautiful. Bellamy moves towards the end of the line of girls and looks down at her. “Have I ever touched you? Or given you even the slightest hint that I ever would?”

“No, your majesty.”

He moves to the girl beside her. “Have I?”

“No, your majesty.” 

On and on until he asks all twelve of them. “It’s my fault for letting you continue your games.” Bellamy shakes his head. “Perhaps I found them amusing for a time, but I will not condone them any longer. Whatever you _think_ you may know about my past actions, I can assure you that you do not. Even so, you seem intent on tormenting my wife and I will not have it. None of you are to even go near the queen without I or Captain Miller’s expressed consent. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, your majesty,” echoes in the room. 

“Good. Now, report to my sister. She’ll have work for you to do.” 

Clarke watches as the maids all look at each other before bowing and heading towards the door she’s standing at, and Clarke backs up slightly as they begin to file through it, all of them looking at her with wide eyes before they bow and address her, then they start off down the hall. When she looks back into the room, Bellamy runs a hand over the back of his neck as he turns towards the captain of his guard, Nathan Miller, and talks to him. She can’t hear what they’re saying, but she opens the door softly and makes her way into the room.

Miller notices her first, since he’s the one that’s facing her, and he nods in her direction before bowing. Bellamy turns towards her then, and Clarke’s fingers itch for charcoal and papyrus so she can capture how he looks. His gold crown, his clothes, the sun shining on his face... _he looks like a dream_.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly, “I don’t mean to interrupt.”

Her husband wastes no time descending the stairs and walking towards her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “You never interrupt me,” he says with a smile. “I’ve talked with—”

“The maids,” Clarke finishes with a smirk, and Bellamy raises an eyebrow at her, the corner of his lips turning up.

“Were you eavesdropping?”

“Me?” Clarke asks innocently, “I would never.”

Miller chuckles at that, and Clarke looks over at him and smiles as Bellamy laughs, too. “That will be all, Miller.”

“Yes, sir.” Miller bows, a smile still on his face, and then he disappears from the room.

Once the door has shut behind him, Bellamy turns his attention back towards her, the smile still on his face. “Now, why has my lovely wife graced me with her presence?”

Clarke bites at her bottom lip as she reaches out and adjusts his robes before looking back at him. “I may not have been entirely truthful with you recently.” Bellamy raises an eyebrow at her. “I’ve been feeling sick, very sick, but mostly only once a day and after we’ve eaten breakfast.” 

“Do you need to go see Nyko? I’m sure he’s free—”

“I’ve just come from there,” Clarke says, and her ability to fight back her smile begins to weaken. “I’m afraid it’s something that cannot be cured for some time.” Bellamy’s eyes widen as he looks at her, and Clarke feels bad for what she’s probably putting him through but then…

“Because I’m pregnant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bellarke baby :) and good news! I'm done with chapter 6 :D
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	6. Chapter 6

It takes a moment, but Bellamy’s eyes light up as he looks at her and then he’s wrapping her up in his arms as he spins around the throne room. Clarke giggles as she looks down at him, and the beautiful, warm smile he gives her makes her heart melt, and the laugh that echoes around them sounds like the most beautiful music she’s ever heard in her life. He lowers her enough to where she can hold his face in her hands and give him a kiss, and when they pull apart she can see tears beginning to form in her husband’s eyes.

“A baby?” He whispers, and Clarke nods her head.

“Our baby.”

Bellamy sets her down then, and he crashes his lips to hers. _This is how it’s supposed to feel_. The familiar feel of his tongue running against her lip is enough for her to deepen the kiss, and Bellamy hums against her lips as he presses her closer. She loves when he does that, and she tightens her arms around him, too.

“I think we should celebrate,” he whispers against her lips, and Clarke smiles.

“Celebrate how?”

“I can think of a few ways.” His voice is rough as he says it, and Clarke can feel her body begin to warm as she looks up at him. 

“My dear king, didn’t anyone ever tell you that once the goal was accomplished then there was no need to keep trying?” She says with a smile, and Bellamy’s grin widens as he looks at her. He leans forward, running his nose along hers as his hands grip her hips even more.

“Well, _my_ _darling wife_ , I must admit that this only makes me want you more.” Clarke sucks in a breath at his words, and after another kiss that leaves her lips tingling, Bellamy grabs her hand and leads her down the hall and towards their room. 

When the door shuts behind them, Bellamy’s lips are on hers again, and Clarke tangles her fingers into his hair as she pulls him closer. She nips at his bottom lip, loving the sound he makes when she does, and his arms wrap around her as he begins trailing kisses down her neck. He begins walking her back towards the bed, but Clarke smiles as she turns them around and then he’s the one who’s pressed against the mattress.

Bellamy smiles down at her, curiosity in his eyes as she grabs his robes and pushes them to the ground. She bites at her bottom lip as she lays her hands on his chest and pushes him back onto the bed, barely giving him any time to grab at the ribbon that’s around her waist before she’s sitting on top of him. Bellamy leans back onto the pillows, looking up at her, and Clarke takes a moment to memorize what he looks like under her.

She runs her fingernails along his sides, smiling when the muscles jump under her fingers before she runs her fingers down the line in the center of his stomach. His hands find her knees, running up the outside of her thighs as he looks at her, and her dress begins to fall off her shoulders.

“You’re beautiful,” she murmurs, and the smile he gives her makes the butterflies in her stomach flutter.

“I believe it’s rude to talk about yourself, princess,” he smirks at her, and Clarke bites at her bottom lip as she grazes her fingernails over his thighs.

“And _I_ believe that I am a queen now.” She raises an eyebrow at him, and Bellamy laughs, deep and sweet.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen this side of you,” he says softly. “I like it.”

“Do you?” She peeks up at him through her eyelashes, her hands staying where they are on his thighs.

“Yes, I really do.” His eyes soften as he looks at her. “It’s only been a few weeks since we’ve arrived here in Ithaca, but it seems that coming here has been good for you.”

“I think so.” She looks down, feeling a familiar ache between her legs as she looks at what’s in front of her. “I—I don’t know how to…” She trails off, her cheeks beginning to heat up as she looks up at him. “But I want to.”

Bellamy’s eyes don’t leave hers as he grabs her hand, and then he guides it towards his cock. “You wrap your hand around it,” he explains as she grabs him, and then his hand tightens around hers. “Like that.” Clarke grips him tighter, and Bellamy bites at his bottom lip. “Yeah,” he whispers. “And then you move your hand.” He brings her hand up slightly, then down, and Clarke watches as he uses her hand to work himself, but it doesn’t last long until he removes his hand and she looks up at him. “Don’t worry, you’re doing good, love.”

Clarke smiles slightly as she looks back down at what she’s doing, and then she focuses on it. His skin feels soft under her hand even though it’s anything but as she squeezes him. She can feel him twitch in her hand and she peeks up at him, only to find him already looking at her through heavy-lidded eyes and enough desire to make her want to press her thighs together. As she moves her hand, she can hear Bellamy’s breathing change, closer to how he sounds when he’s inside of her, and then there’s a low, rumbly sound that comes from deep in his throat.

“If we keep doing this then it will be over a lot faster than either of us want.” His voice is rough when he speaks, and Clarke can’t help the smile that blooms on her lips at his words.

Suddenly, he sits up and their noses are almost touching, and his hands come up to push her dress all the way off. She looks at him as it falls away, and when she grips him tighter she watches as his eyes flutter closed. “Can we try it like this?”

Bellamy opens his eyes then, and Clarke is incapable of looking away. His skin has gotten darker since they’ve been here, and so have his freckles…her thoughts drift to their baby that’s growing inside of her now, and she finds that she _really_ hopes it’s a boy that looks like their father. His hands grip her hips, guiding her up and Clarke’s breath catches in her throat as he reaches around and slips a finger through her folds. He presses it into her and she hums, pressing down against his hand before he pulls it out.

“Remember to breathe,” he murmurs, and then he takes over, replacing her hand with his and guiding her up even further until she can feel the tip pressing against her entrance.

She lowers herself slowly, the feeling of him sliding in her a lot different than it usually is, and she buries her face into his neck. If she thought that him on top of her was a lot, she didn’t realize that it could feel like _this_. She clenches around him when she finishes taking him completely, and then Bellamy presses himself further into her and Clarke moans as she captures his mouth with hers.

“It’s so much,” she whimpers, her arms tightening around him, and Bellamy kisses her cheek, then her shoulder, then her lips again.

“And you always take me so well,” he murmurs against her lips.

Clarke looks at him, loving the way the sunlight makes the earthy brown of his eyes dance, and she plays with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Do you believe the story of Zeus forcing humanity to spend their lives searching for their other half?”

She feels silly asking him this, but since she thought about their first night together, she’s found that she can’t help but wonder if he feels the same. One of his hands travels to her hair, running his fingers through it before he cups the back of her head.

“I must admit that I never thought much of having another half, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t start to believe it the moment I spoke to you on the beach.”

Her heart flutters, but she can’t help raising an eyebrow at him. “You’ve already got me as your wife, you do not need to try and flatter me.”

He grins at her. “Happiness— _true_ happiness—looks good on you.”

Clarke ducks her head, resting her forehead on his shoulder as she smiles, and Bellamy kisses her shoulder. She loves when he holds her like this. Like there’s more to just trying to produce an heir, and now she knows that there is. His breath fans out across her skin and Clarke shivers in his arms, pressing open mouth kisses to his neck and jaw and tasting the salt on his skin.

She kisses him as he guides her up again then brings her back down, and Clarke clenches around him again. She still likes when he’s on top of her, but she’s pretty sure she could get used to this, even if her legs are already beginning to numb. He lifts her up, then guides her back down. Up and down. Like the waves she watched the night before the competition, and she loves the way he moves her. Like all the other times they’ve been together like this, Bellamy holds her close and she loves the way his fingers press into her skin while he kisses her softly.

As she thinks about spending her life with him, she can feel a lump forming in the back of her throat and tears spring to her eyes as she tries to pull him closer. She wants to fuse their bodies together, spend her life between his arms and never let him go anywhere. She wants to know every inch of him, fill the castle with the sounds of their children running around and laughing, and make sure that they know just how much they’re loved.

Bellamy cups the side of her face, bringing it up to his. His brown eyes stare into her blue, and Clarke can feel the tears that were caught in her lashes fall down her cheeks. He wipes them away, and Clarke leans into his hand, smiling at him.

“I love you,” she murmurs, and she marvels at how his eyes begin to shine with unshed tears.

“I love you, too, Clarke.”

They continue to smile at each other as she moves, and Clarke sucks at his pulse point before she nips at his neck, and Bellamy moans into her shoulder. The softness is still there, but a fire ignites in within her as Bellamy tilts her hips as she moves down and Clarke gasps.

“Did you feel that?”

“Mhm.” Clarke lifts up again and tilts her hips again, loving the way he feels when she does, and Bellamy hums as she does it again.

The familiar tightness begins to build within her lower stomach, and she moans into his mouth. When they pull apart, Bellamy’s eyes drift down to her stomach before one of his hands moves from her hips to spread across it. The feeling of him touching her there sends a wave of pleasure throughout her body, but then his hand moves lower until his thumb presses against her clit and her head falls onto his shoulder again.

“I can feel how close you are,” he whispers against her neck.

“Bellamy,” she whimpers, and Bellamy begins to move his thumb in tight circles. Her muscles clench and her breath catches, and she feels overwhelmed.

“Come on, love, let me feel you.”

Clarke moans, and then warmth spreads throughout her body as she spasms around him. Bellamy swears under his breath as he presses his mouth to her neck, and another wave of pleasure spreads throughout her body as she feels him come inside of her.

Clarke tries to catch her breath, clinging onto her husband as her body shakes, and Bellamy runs his fingers through her hair before lifting her up and off him. Clarke whines at the feeling of him leaving her, but then he’s turning them around and Clarke finds herself laying back against the pillows as Bellamy lays his head next to her stomach. She watches as his hand comes up to rest over her stomach, and she smiles as she runs her fingers through his hair.

“A baby,” he whispers, amazement coloring his voice. “Nyko’s sure?”

“Very.”

Bellamy moves, propping himself up on his elbow as he presses a kiss above her belly button and Clarke can feel more tears threatening to roll down her cheeks. He gives her stomach another kiss, and then another, and then Clarke can’t stop herself from giggling before Bellamy looks up at her.

“You haven’t eaten very much recently. I’ll have Harper direct the cooks with what they should make for tonight.”

“Strawberries?” Clarke asks, raising her eyebrows, and Bellamy smiles.

“Whatever you want.”

“Mmm…” she bites at her bottom lip as she continues to run her fingers through his hair. “I could get used to that.”

Bellamy laughs as he leans up and gives her a deep, loving kiss.

~

After spending some time in the room just getting to be together with the knowledge that they’re going to have a child, they decide to go find the rest of Bellamy’s family to tell them the news. Kane is in the throne room with Aurora and they both turn to look at the two of them as they walk in.

“Oh, there you are.” Aurora smiles, raising an eyebrow at her son. “I hear you had a talk with the maids.”

“Yes, I did,” Bellamy admits, and then Aurora looks at Clarke.

“I’m sorry that you had to experience that, Clarke. They’ve always loved causing problems, even when they were younger.”

“It’s fine, Aurora, really.” Clarke smiles, surprised that she feels absolutely nothing when she thinks back on what she was told, and then she looks up at her husband. Bellamy seems very excited as he wraps a hand around her waist, and she watches as he bites at his bottom lip.

“You seem particularly happy,” Kane says, raising an eyebrow as he looks between the two of them. 

“Yes, I believe so, too.” Aurora looks at them, too. “Care to share?”

“Well,” Bellamy says, turning his bright smile towards her, “I believe this castle is going to get very noisy.”

Both Aurora and Kane look at Bellamy and Clarke like they’re not quite sure what to make of Bellamy’s statement, and Clarke can’t help it when she places her hand over her stomach and Aurora’s eyes go wide.

“By the gods, you’re pregnant.” 

“Yes!” Clarke laughs, incapable of holding it in anymore, and Bellamy kisses the side of her head before his mother pulls them in for a hug, then Kane does the same.

“Oh, we need to celebrate! I’ll go talk to the cooks and the feast will be tonight.”

“I’ll ring the bells.” 

Kane and Aurora both nod their heads and start in their own directions, and Bellamy chuckles. “Mother, talk to Harper!”

“Of course!” Is all Aurora calls over her shoulder before she disappears through the doors that lead down to the kitchen. 

Clarke can't stop laughing as she leans into Bellamy’s side and it seems neither can Bellamy because he’s still laughing as he wraps her up in his arms. “If this is how your parents act, I can only imagine how Octavia will take the news.”

“Well, let’s go find her and see.” They kiss, stirring the feelings within Clarke from their earlier time together, and then Bellamy takes her hand and leads her towards the practice grounds.

When they emerge into the sun, the heat rolls over Clarke in waves and she’s momentarily disoriented. She grabs out onto Bellamy’s arm, trying to steady herself before she loses her balance, and he pulls her closer.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm.” She nods her head. “I just felt dizzy for a moment.”

“Do you want to sit down?” He looks at her then, his eyebrows furrowed together and his lips pressed together in a thin line, and Clarke can’t help but love that face.

“No, love,” she says softly, “I’m okay.”

“Okay.” Bellamy kisses her forehead but doesn’t move his arm from around her as they make their way onto the archery field, and Octavia is there with her bow in her hand as she aims towards the target. Clarke watches in amazement as the princess lets her arrow loose and it flies through the air before sinking in the center of the circle. 

“You still haven’t shown me how to use a bow and arrow,” Clarke mumbles.

“We’ll spend the day tomorrow here then.” Bellamy says softly. “As long as the heat does not overwhelm you.”

“Okay.” Clarke smiles up at him, and Bellamy does the same before he leans down and gives her another sweet kiss.

“Come to lose to your little sister?” Octavia says, turning to look at them, and Clarke smirks as Bellamy raises an eyebrow at her.

“You have never beaten me at archery in your life, O. You just wish you could.”

“Care to put your skills to the test then?”

Clarke looks over at the knight that’s with her, Lincoln, and they smile at one another before they look back to the siblings who seem to be facing off. She’s come to realize that there’s never a dull moment between Bellamy and his sister, and usually there’s _something_ going on between them whether it’s a wager or just a statement that one is better than the other. 

“As much as I would love to,” Bellamy begins, wrapping his arm around Clarke again, “that is not why we’re here.”

“Oh? Then what?” Octavia looks between the two of them, and Clarke bounces slightly on her feet.

“How would you feel about being an aunt, Octavia?”

“Yes!” Octavia screams, and the three of them around her all flinch at the sound before they laugh, and then Octavia is wrapping Clarke up in her arms. “Oh, I was waiting for this!”

“Were you?”

“Of course,” Octavia says, smiling as she and Clarke pull apart. “I can’t wait to have a little niece or nephew to corrupt.”

“ _That_ is not happening.” 

“I’m afraid you don’t have a say, big brother.” Octavia pats her brother’s arm. “It’s already set.”

Bellamy shakes his head as Octavia grins at him, and then Lincoln inclines his head. “Congratulations, your majesties.”

“Thank you, Lincoln.” Bellamy says, and the two men clasp arms before Bellamy wraps his arm back around his wife. “Tonight, we celebrate.”

By the time the sun goes down, the feast is filled with all of the food that Clarke could have ever asked for, and there are offerings and sacrifices made to Hera and a lot of blessings with many of their people saying that they would pray for them to have a boy. Clarke wants a boy, but for her own reasons rather than just giving Bellamy an heir, but whenever she looked at Bellamy after someone said that, he didn’t seem as if that was the answer he was expecting.

Now that they’re in their room, Clarke rolls onto her side and trails her fingers across his chest. She’s tired, more than usual, but Bellamy seems to be tired, too, since his eyes are already beginning to droop. She rests her chin on his shoulder as she looks at him, and Bellamy’s head lulls to the side as he looks down at her.

“Do you want a boy? Or a girl?”

The corner of Bellamy’s mouth turns up as he runs his hand up and down her back. “Is that a trick question?”

“I don’t know. What would be tricky about it?”

“I should want a boy, and I do, but lately I’ve been finding myself wanting a girl just like her mother.” He smiles as he says it, and Clarke’s heart swells. 

“Then, I believe we’re at odds. I want a little boy who looks like you.” 

“Do you?”

“Mhm.” Clarke bites at her lower lip. “Our first day here, when we walked through the castle together, I thought about what you must have been like when you were younger. Running through the halls and causing trouble, and I realized I wanted a son who would do the same.”

“So, you’ve thought about this before.” Bellamy smirks at her, his hand moving up to run through her hair. 

“You have, too, it seems.”

“Yes, I definitely have.” His fingernails graze her scalp and Clarke hums, leaning her head back on his shoulder. “We can have a girl and a boy. Or multiple. In truth, I would not mind creating my own little army if you allowed me to.”

Clarke giggles then, and Bellamy smiles down at her like she’s the most amusing thing he’s ever seen. “Let us get through our first child and then we’ll talk.”

“That’s fine with me, love.” He rolls them over until Clarke is on her back and Bellamy settles on his stomach as he moves down towards hers. “Even though we’ve celebrated, it still doesn’t feel real,” he murmurs, and his hand comes up to run over her stomach. The calluses scrape against her skin, and Clarke shivers as she laces her fingers with his.

“It will be real when I begin to show.”

“ _Gods_ , I can’t wait for that.” 

And with that, Bellamy begins peppering her stomach with kisses and Clarke’s giggles fill the room, able to be heard down into the courtyard.

~

Over the following weeks, Clarke’s stomach grows and so does her ability to not stop touching her husband. But Bellamy definitely doesn’t seem to mind because it appears that he likes her pregnant. After Clarke has experienced her—now normal—morning sickness, Bellamy leaves to get them breakfast and then the two of them, then after they’ve finished eating Clarke finds herself just wanting to lay with her husband and usually takes a nap. 

When she wakes up, she realizes that he has things he needs to do, he is the king, but she can’t help the way her heart sinks a little when he walks out of the door. She knows it’s unreasonable, but with all of the changes that are happening to her she can’t help it. Bellamy makes her feel better, so if it were up to her she would wrap herself around him in bed and not let him go until the baby arrives. 

Clarke sighs as she leans against the edge of the open window and Octavia turns to look at her. Even though Clarke hasn’t been feeling up to walking up a bunch of stairs and the heat seems to be getting to her more than usual, Octavia has still found ways for them to enjoy themselves in the new circumstances. Now, they’re supposed to be on their way to pick berries for a pie that Octavia wants her to try, but Clarke wants to find Bellamy.

“Are you okay?” The brunette’s eyebrows furrow together as she reaches out and places a hand on Clarke’s arm, and Clarke nods. 

“Yes, I’m fine. I just—” she takes a deep breath, her eyes fluttering closed momentarily. “I think I need to go lie down, but I should go find Bellamy.”

“I can go find Bellamy if you want.” Octavia straightens, but Clarke shakes her head.

“No, it’s okay. I believe some sun would be good for me, and we’re close to where he’s practicing.” Clarke looks up at Octavia, and the brunette raises an eyebrow at her. “I’m fine, Octavia. Could you still make the pie? I would like to try it.” 

“Of course.” Octavia reaches out and squeezes Clarke’s hand. “You’ll be the first to try it.”

“Thank you.” 

The two of them smile at each other for a moment, and then the princess turns and continues her walk down the hall. Clarke takes a deep breath, then another, each one helping her feel better before she finally pushes off the stone wall and begins making her way towards the archery training area. Bellamy said that he would be practicing this afternoon and, despite Clarke’s weakened state, she hopes he’ll continue with her training. 

The sun is bright when she steps out into it, and Clarke raises her hand to shield her eyes as her other comes up to rest on her stomach. It’s not a large bump by any means but enough to where it’s obvious that she’s pregnant, and even though her hand can’t fit around it anymore, Bellamy still can. While she walks she thinks about the first time they realized that there was even anything there, and the look on her husband’s face when he touched it made her want to cry. 

She’ll continue to have his kids, not only because she just wants a lot of them like Bellamy but because she wants to see that face again. 

When she turns on the dirt path Clarke can see the training field below her, but she can’t see anyone there. _That’s odd_. She can see the targets and the weapons that are usually put out in case anyone wants to practice, but there is not another soul. _Bellamy said he would be here_. 

As she walks down the path, her mind begins to wonder about where her husband could be. Of course, there is always the possibility that he’s been called in for a meeting, but lately he hasn’t had anything of urgency. When she nears the first target, the maids’ comments begin to creep into her mind, but Clarke tries to push them away.

_He wouldn’t lie to me about coming here,_ she tells herself. _And he certainly wouldn’t lie to me so he could sneak off to a tavern._ She takes a deep breath, then another, placing her hand over her stomach. _So, where could he be?_

Movement catches her attention out of the corner of her eye and Clarke turns, finding Lincoln walking towards one of the weapon racks with a few swords in his hands.

“Lincoln,” Clarke calls, and the man looks up at her and inclines his head.

“Yes, your majesty?” He asks as he begins putting the swords up, and Clarke walks over to him.

“Do you know where Bellamy is?” 

Lincoln wavers. It’s subtle and barely anything to notice, but he does, and Clarke can feel her heart wanting to sink. “I believe his majesty is in his study.”

“He told me he would be here this afternoon.” Clarke walks towards Lincoln then, and she has to tilt her head up to look at his face properly. “Lincoln, do you know where my husband is?”

Again, he wavers, casting his eyes down. “Yes, your majesty.” 

“Then I suggest you bring me to him.” Her voice is steady as she speaks, despite the pounding in her ears, and Lincoln inclines his head once more before motioning for her to walk towards the other side of the practice area.

After they walk for a minute, Clarke realizes that they’re making their way towards the stables, and she begins to wonder what Bellamy could be doing there. If he was going for a ride then he would have asked her to come with him, but he told her that he would be practicing.

_There’s an explanation, you just have to wait and see what it is._

Lincoln opens the doors to the stables then he leads the way towards the back. She knows that the feed is kept back here even though she’s never seen it herself, and she begins to wonder what exactly Bellamy is doing here. Lincoln stops at the corner and motions for Clarke to keep going, and she clutches onto her dress more, looking at him, before she steps around the stall. Then, she gasps.

There, in all of his glory, is a shirtless Bellamy steadily sanding at a baby crib. He must hear her gasp because he looks up, his eyes wide as he realizes it’s her, but then he glares at Lincoln.

“I believe my orders were to keep the queen away from this part of the stables.”

“Well, I must admit, your majesty,” Lincoln says as the corner of his mouth turns up, “Queen Clarke is more terrifying that you are.”

Clarke finds her mouth turning up, too, and she looks at the soldier beside her. “Good.” 

Bellamy chuckles, his deep voice carrying through the open space and sending a wave of affection to Clarke’s heart. “It’s hard to argue with that.” He wipes his hands on a piece of fabric then nods towards Lincoln. “You May go. Thank you for escorting her.” 

Lincoln inclines his head to Bellamy and Clarke before turning and making his way back the way they came, and Clarke turns her attention towards her husband and the furniture in front of her. Bellamy looks from her to the crib, his hand running over the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry for lying to you about where I would be, I just wanted it to be a surprise.” 

At that, tears form in Clarke’s eyes and there’s a wave of adoration and love that threatens to consume her, but then guilt threatens to overpower it. _I thought the worst when he wasn’t at the practice arena and he was building our child a crib_. A sob escapes her lips before she can catch it and then Bellamy is there, placing his hand on her waist.

“Clarke?”

“I’m sorry,” she chokes out, not wanting to look up at him. _How could I think that when he’s shown me time and time again that he wouldn’t do that to me?_ “I—I’m sorry.” 

Another thing that’s come with her pregnancy is being more prone to crying. Usually if Bellamy brings her flowers in between meetings or that time when Octavia brought her strawberries and Clarke broke down in the hallway. She doesn’t like it, mainly because she’s never cried this much in her life, and the worst thing is that she can never seem to stop. 

“Why are you sorry? You haven’t—”

“When you weren’t—” Clarke tries to take a deep breath and Bellamy pulls her towards him, wrapping his other arm around her. “When you weren’t at the practice area I thought—the maids voices came back to me and—”

“Shh…” Bellamy pulls her even closer, pressing her head forward to rest on his chest and Clarke clings to him.

“I’m sorry, Bellamy,” she sobs, and Bellamy kisses the top of her head.

“I understand.” Those words, along with him holding her, make Clarke feel a little better, and the two of them stand there while she tries to take deep breaths with him still holding her. “I’m sure hearing something like that can’t go away easily, so I understand.”

“But you’ve done nothing except try to show me that you wouldn’t do anything that would hurt me and I still thought it. I feel terrible.” 

“I can see that.” The corner of Bellamy’s mouth turns up, but Clarke can’t find it in her to smile. “Clarke,” Bellamy readjusts his arms around her then he looks at her face properly, “you’ve moved from your home, your family, so I could be with mine. You’ve had to put up with me being gone for hours on end and even though you have my mother and Octavia and Harper, you are still trying to get used to things here. Not to mention we have a baby on the way. _I understand_ why you would think the worst, and it’s my fault for lying to you.” 

“Bellamy, don’t—” Clarke tries to protest, but Bellamy stops her by pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

“A marriage is between two people, right?”

“Yes,” Clarke says, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“And a marriage can only work if there is honesty. I wasn’t honest with you about where I would be, but you were honest with me about your feelings. I’m sorry for lying to you, and I promise if I ever have any more surprises then I’ll just tell you that it will be a surprise so I don’t worry you again.”

“But if you tell me it’s a surprise then I’ll go mad trying to figure out what it is.” 

Bellamy smiles down at her, running his nose along hers. “Better mad than doubtful of my love for you.” 

Clarke huffs, but that quickly disappears as Bellamy captures her in a kiss. His lips are soft under hers, a huge contrast from his hard chest and the stubble that’s beginning to line his jaw, and Clarke smiles as she threads her fingers into his hair.

“You’re a dream, do you know that?” She asks, and the grin he gives her is breathtaking.

“Coming from the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.” He kisses her again. “If I were ever to dream of a perfect life, it would be this one.” 

Clarke’s heart flips as he looks down at her and she tilts her face up, asking for another kiss. _King Bellamy Blake of Ithaca is Apollo and no one will be able to change my mind_.

“Do you want to see the crib? It’s not finished, but…” Bellamy trails off as he turns, motioning towards the beautiful wood work, and Clarke grins as she looks from him to the crib and walks towards it.

The wood is smooth under her hands as she runs them over the railing, and she can feel tears beginning to prick her eyes some more. “It’s lovely.” 

Bellamy comes up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and placing his hands on her stomach. “Do you think our baby will like it?” 

“I’m sure they’ll love it.” Clarke tilts her head to the side, looking up at him, and Bellamy smiles as he leans down and gives her another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, Bellamy is building the crib. How could he not ;) And we have to love confident Clarke <3
> 
> I actually don't have chapter 7 written yet and even though I'm going to do my best to have it up next Monday, I have a lot of school work to get through so I'll post it whenever I can! But, on another note, there's going to be more than 12 chapters, I just haven't decided on how many yet :)
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone!
> 
> I'm sorry I've been MIA but hopefully I'm back now :) It's just been hard trying to update everything with my school work and then finals, but the semester is over! Though I'm supposed to be studying for the LSAT now so I'm going to try and juggle that with writing lol 
> 
> But, all that being said, let's get started...

Time goes by and Clarke’s stomach grows to the point where Nyko has ordered her to stay in bed except for a couple of hours so she can still get in some exercise, even though her walking has been reduced to waddling. She never realized how uncomfortable being pregnant could be, with her baby kicking her stomach at ungodly hours and the feeling of her entire body being swollen but, she has to admit, placing her hand against her stomach and feeling her baby press against it is one of the best things in the world. Also, seeing Bellamy’s face light up every time it happens is also high on that list. 

She’s lost count of how many times Bellamy has slipped away from his meetings with Kane to come see in their room only to have one of his men show up to escort him back. There’s not long until she’s supposed to give birth and the closer she gets the more she can’t find the energy to walk and the more Bellamy refuses to leave her side. It’s adorable and, she has to admit, she doesn’t mind all of the attention he’s willing to give her.

Now, she’s walking through the halls trying to get some sort of sun but she’s growing even more tired with every step she takes. She knows she shouldn’t bother Bellamy, and today is the first day that Octavia has agreed to leave the castle because Clarke told her that she wants another pie, and Aurora is steadily lining everything up that they’ll need for the due date. 

As she walks, she can see some of the maids looking at her, but Clarke ignores them. Since the day Bellamy confronted them they haven’t talked to her or even come within speaking distance. Not that Bellamy would have let them anyway. A wave of dizziness washes over her and Clarke places one hand over her stomach as the other comes up to hold onto the wall. 

_ I should get back to bed _ . Bellamy told her that if she were to go walking around then he wanted someone to accompany her for situations just like this, but she’s never been one to  _ want _ someone to trail behind her when all she’s doing is walking. 

Before she can even turn around, a pair of arms come to wrap around her waist as silky hair brushes against her exposed shoulder. “Bellamy,” Clarke giggles, and he ducks his head to kiss her neck. “What are you doing?” 

“Checking up on my expecting wife.” 

“Kane said he would tie you down the next time you left a meeting,” she whispers, but Bellamy only hums as he moves them from the hallway to alcove with a window that looks down on the courtyard.

“My mother has decided that today is a beautiful day for a ride, so it seems that my advisor will be out for the afternoon.” He grins down at her and Clarke laughs softly as Bellamy presses a kiss to her cheek, then her jaw, making his way down her neck until he can suck at her pulse point and Clarke grabs at his shoulders, biting her lip to keep from making any noise. 

“What if someone sees us?” She opens her eyes slightly to look over his shoulder at the hallway, and even though she can’t hear anyone coming she still doesn’t want to cause a scene like when she let herself get carried away while kissing him.

“Then, love, we’ll just have to be quick.” 

_ Quick. _ They’ve used that word a few times over the past few weeks and while it works when they’re trying to hurry before Kane comes back to the meeting or before someone comes to bring Bellamy back, now that they have an afternoon together…

“Well, my king,” Clarke murmurs, “I’m afraid your wife doesn’t want something that’s quick.”

She loves the way Bellamy’s eyes darken whenever she refers to herself as “his wife,” and it usually leads to exactly what she wants from him. She is his, and he is hers, and while the others in his kingdom have come to realize that, she doesn’t want them to know what exactly that means. 

“Then, let me give  _ my wife _ what she wants.” Without warning, he bends down and scoops her up into his arms before making his way back down the hall. Gone, for now, are the days of the two of them running through the halls and towards their room, but she can’t say that she minds Bellamy’s willingness to carry her wherever she wants to go. She likes being in his arms and she also likes not having to waddle anywhere.

Before Clarke realizes it, Bellamy is pushing into their bedroom and excitement floods her body as Bellamy doesn’t even bother setting her down on the ground but instead goes straight towards their bed. He crawls onto it with Clarke still in his arms and she purrs as he props himself over her stomach. 

“Now, what do you want, love?”

“You,” she hums, already moving to get rid of his shirt. 

“Is that it? I thought you might want strawberries.” 

Clarke stops, looking up at him. “Strawberries?” 

“I can go get some—” Bellamy moves to leave but Clarke wraps her arms around his shoulders, holding him in place.

“Later.” She goes back to undoing his clothes until he throws them on the floor, and then Clarke sits up as she moves to her knees. “I want you,” she murmurs, and Bellamy wraps his arms around her waist. 

“How?”

“I want you inside of me,” she whispers. 

Her cheeks flame and her heart skips a beat at the words, but she makes herself look back up at him after she says it. It’s new, like the quick moments they have together, and Clarke is still getting used to saying it, but she feels...different when she does. She likes it. Likes saying something she knows she shouldn’t be saying and watching her husband turn into putty right before her eyes. She feels powerful. 

Bellamy’s lips surge towards hers and she tangles her fingers in his hair, licking into his mouth as she tries to climb further onto his lap. Since her stomach is a lot bigger, she can’t hold onto Bellamy how she used to and he lays back into the bed, looking up at her.

“You know, I quite like this view.” He smiles, beautiful and breathtaking, and Clarke skates her fingers over his bare chest.

“And I quite like you under me.” She wiggles on top of him, causing the straps of her dress to fall, and Bellamy’s hands fist in her skirts. 

“Take what you want, Clarke,” he whispers, and Clarke hums as she moves to take him in her hand. She’s gotten more confident when it comes to touching him, but his favorite thing is still him touching her. 

As she pumps him with her hand, Bellamy reaches around and runs his fingers through her folds. She can feel how wet she is as he touches her, but that’s how she’s been for weeks. He can just look at her and then she’s aching for him. 

Clarke doesn’t wait long before she’s lifting herself up and positioning him under her, and Bellamy holds onto her waist as she sinks down onto him. She’s gotten used to his size since their first night together and now she can’t remember not being with him like this. Having him touch her, hold her, whisper how much he loves her between their breaths. 

When he’s fully inside of her Clarke gasps as she looks down at him, clenching at how full he makes her. “You feel so good,” he says, running his hands up her thighs, and she clenches around him again. 

“You, too.” 

Bellamy holds onto her as she lifts herself up and then he guides her back down, rolling her hips. She knows that once the baby is born they’ll have to take some time for her to recover, but with how much she and Bellamy have been touching each other she wonders how that will go.

“ _ Bellamy _ ,” she moans, and he props himself up on one of his arms, flexing his hips and going deeper inside of her. “Bell—”

“That’s it,” he whispers, and he flexes his hips again. “I can feel you getting close.”

“Mhm.” Clarke moves to hold his shoulders as she lifts herself up and sinks back down and Bellamy’s hand moves to press against her clit, rubbing tight circles to the point of her seeing stars. “I’m so close.” 

“Come on, Clarke. Let go for me.” He presses against her clit even harder and Clarke whimpers as her walls flutter around him. 

She comes with a muffled moan and she shivers when she feels Bellamy expand and come inside of her.  _ Eventually we’ll be able to have another baby together. _ Just that thought makes her want him even more, but now she’s even more tired than what she was before. 

“How do you feel now?” Bellamy asks, laying back down on the bed, and Clarke hums as she moves from on top of him, taking a spot beside him on the bed. 

“A lot better.” 

“A lot?”

“Mhm.” Clarke rolls onto her side and Bellamy pulls her into his chest, running his fingers over the exposed skin of her arm. 

“We still have a lot of daylight left,” he murmurs. “What else do you want to do?” 

Clarke bites at her bottom lip, her hand skating over his chest and down to his stomach. “I have a few ideas.” 

Bellamy chuckles deeply as he leans over and presses a kiss to her forehead, and Clarke curls into his side even more. “Let me go get you some strawberries and then we’ll see about a round two.” Clarke pouts, though Bellamy seems to only find that cute because he laughs again as he gives her another kiss. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Okay.” Clarke tilts her lips up towards his again and Bellamy kisses her again, before he rolls out of bed and begins to pull on his clothes again.

~

When it’s time for the baby to come, Clarke and Bellamy are walking down the hall and Clarke freezes as she turns to look at her husband, grabbing on tight to his arm. “Bellamy,” she looks up at him, her eyes widening, “the baby is coming.”

Bellamy’s eyes widen, too, as his eyebrows arch under his curls, and then his arms are around her as her feet leave the floor and then he’s carrying her towards Nyko’s office. Nyko made sure that there was an approximate date for when they should be expecting the baby, and as pain pulses through her body all she can do is hope that everyone else is ready. 

“Nyko!” Bellamy calls, and Clarke can feel the others in the hallway looking at them as they go. “The baby is coming.”

It doesn’t take long for there to be a flurry of movement around them as Bellamy lays her down on the prepared bed. They agreed that no one would be brought into their bedroom, on account of the bed that Bellamy made, but the bed that he lays her on is softer than she expected. The pain comes again and Clarke winces, grabbing onto Bellamy’s hand as Nyko appears above her, too. 

“Breathe, Clarke,” Bellamy says softly.

“Is that supposed to be easy?”

“He’s right, Clarke,” Nyko nods his head. “You need to breathe.”

Clarke winces from the pain again and grips Bellamy’s hand tighter, hearing him suck in a breath. “Bellamy,” she whimpers, and he presses a kiss to her forehead. 

“You can do this, love, I’m right here.”

“I knew this would be painful,” she bites out, “but hearing it doesn’t actually tell you just how much.”

“It’ll be over before you know it.”

“You don’t need to lie to me, Bell,” she pants.

“Clarke!” Octaiva’s voice rings in the room and when Clarke turns to look at her white clouds her vision. “Clarke, how are you feeling?”

“Octavia, you know the answer to that.” Aurora’s voice sounds in the room, too, sure and calming. “Clarke, breathe.” 

“Everyone is telling me that.” 

“Then perhaps you should listen,” Bellamy says, smiling down at her a little, and despite the pain Clarke laughs a little. 

“I hadn’t thought of that.” That gains a few laughs from the others, but Clarke only grips Bellamy’s hand tighter as more pain rushes through her body. 

“I’m afraid we’re in for a long night,” Nyko says from the foot of the bed, and Clarke unscrews her eyes to look at him. “But I’ll make you as comfortable as I can.”

Clarke can only manage a nod and then she curls into Bellamy’s chest as he leans onto the bed beside her. She remembers her mother telling her that her birth was quick, easy even, but apparently Aurora went through a lot of pain with Bellamy and even though it was a little better with Octavia she said it was still painful. Clarke isn’t sure what this means for her exactly, but she does know that this is the most extreme pain she’s ever been in. 

It doesn’t take long for the pain to get worse, and worse, until eventually all Clarke can do is cry as she clings to Bellamy. Nyko ordered Octavia and Aurora out of the room so Clarke and Bellamy could have some time together, but Clarke can barely form a sentence together through her tears and when she looks at her husband, he’s crying, too. 

“You’re doing so well, Clarke,” he coos. “You’re almost done.”

“I haven’t even started pushing yet.” Hot tears roll down her face as she tries to breathe properly, and then she can feel Bellamy’s lips press against her temple. 

“The baby is about to come,” Nyko says from the foot of the bed. “Your majesty, when I tell you, I’ll need you to push.” 

“Okay,” Clarke grits, and she squeezes Bellamy’s hand more. She looks up at the ceiling for a second before she turns and finds Bellamy’s face through her tears. “I’m scared, Bell.” 

“I’m right here, love. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Bellamy kisses her then and even though Clarke can barely return it, it makes her feel better.  _ I’m right here _ . Clarke looks into his eyes as she tries to breathe again, but then Nyko is there telling her to push. She’s sure her cries can be heard throughout the kingdom with how much pain she’s in, but then they’re joined by the sounds of a baby. 

Clarke can feel her entire body covered in sweat, her tears mixing with the other water on her body, but she smiles at the sight of her and Bellamy’s baby. 

“It appears you have a son, your majesties.” Nyko smiles at them from under his beard as he wraps the little boy in a piece of cloth before handing him to Clarke, and Bellamy is there leaning over the two of them. 

“Hi, love,” Clarke whispers, and their son stops crying as he looks up at the two of them. His hair is thick and dark like his fathers, but his eyes are ocean blue like his mother. “Bellamy.” She looks up at her husband and the sight of him makes her want to cry more.

Bellamy’s eyes are wide and his lips are parted and he just looks so amazed at the little bundle in Clarke’s arms, like he can’t believe they’re finally parents. “Bell, we have a son,” she murmurs, and Bellamy looks from their son to her.

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” Clarke smiles up at him and then the two of them are looking back down at their son. “Hi, Rowan,” she murmurs.

His blue eyes are wide as he looks up at them but the more Clarke holds him to her chest the more he begins nuzzling her. With advice from Aurora, Clarke positions him at her breast and he latches quickly, staring up at her. 

The moon is shining through the open window as Clarke and Bellamy gush over their son, and Aurora, Octavia, and Kane are sent for to meet the new heir. Despite the happiness that Clarke is feeling, she’s also feeling very tired. Once their son has been fed and wrapped up, Clarke moves over on the bed so Bellamy can join her, their baby in his arms. 

“We’ll let you get some sleep,” Aurora says, her eyes still shining as she looks at her son and grandson. “I can have the nurse maid—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Bellamy says, looking up at his mother. “We’re not going to use a nursemaid.”

Aurora and Kane’s eyes widen slightly, but Octavia just smiles. Clarke told her that she and Bellamy wanted to be hands on in raising their child and not just when they believed it suited them. Aurora used a nurse maid but not as much as she should have, which caused a murmur to go around the castle then. Now, Clarke and Bellamy are not using one at all.

“Your majesty,” Kane begins, clasping his hands behind his back, “taking care of a child is like running a kingdom and I do not know if—”

“Bellamy will be free during the day for meetings and signings. I will take care of Rowan then. He may just be a little tired from the night shift.” Clarke smiles a little with a knowing look towards her husband, but her energy feels drained at this point. 

“As my wife has said, I’ll be free and I’m sure if I am not up when I should be she’ll make sure to kick me out of bed.” Bellamy smiles down at her, but she can tell when he notices how tired she is, because he runs his hand over her hair, picking a few strands out of her face. “She’s tired, so we can talk more tomorrow.” 

“Of course.” Kane smiles, then turns his attention to Clarke. “Congratulations.” 

“Good night, darling,” Aurora says softly at her grandson, and then she gives Bellamy and Clarke a hug. Octavia follows suit, with a kiss to the side of Clarke’s head and another to her brother and nephew, and then the queen and king of Ithaca are left with their child. 

“Can we go back to our room,” Clarke whispers, resting her head on Bellamy’s arm, and he kisses the top of it.

“Nyko will want to examine you tomorrow and you shouldn’t be walking.”

“Then, you can carry me. Yeah?” A soft smile spreads on her lips as she looks up at him, and she watches as Bellamy tries to raise an eyebrow at her, but then he smiles, too.

“Of course, I will.” Bellamy places another kiss on top of her head, and then he hands her Rowan before picking them both up in his arms. 

It amazes her that he still seems to have no problem carrying her, even after the weight she’s gained from carrying their son, and she curls into his chest as she looks down at her son. The halls are empty now, but soon they’ll be filled with people preparing for the feast to welcome the new prince and there will be guests and sacrifices will be made. Just how a year ago there were guests filling her father’s palace back in Arkadia to celebrate her and Bellamy’s marriage. 

The crib that Bellamy was making now stands a few feet away from their bed and he sets Clarke down gently so they can both watch as Rowan is placed in his own bed for the first time. He’s asleep, swaddled in a blanket that Aurora gifted them just a few weeks before, and Bellamy’s arms wrap around Clarke as he stands behind her. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs against the shell of her ear, and Clarke sinks into his chest, running her hands over his arms.

“For what?” 

He nuzzled the side of her head before placing a kiss to her cheek. “Giving me everything I could have ever dreamed of.”

Her smile widens as she turns and noses at his neck before giving it a kiss. “And what would that be?” She whispers.

“A family. A wonderful son, and an amazing and beautiful, loving, wife.” 

Clarke grins, still pressed against his neck, and then she turns fully and gives him a kiss. She’s still very tired, but she could kiss her husband for the rest of her life.

“Come, let’s get you in bed.” 

Clarke slides into bed and Bellamy follows her, then she curls into him. On top of her exhaustion, she’s still in a little pain but it’s gotten better since Nyko gave her tea to drink. They’ll have to wake up soon to feed Rowan and then she’ll have to try and get more sleep, but Clarke isn’t worried about whether or not they’ll be able to do it. They’ve talked about it and it’s going to be something that they do together. Not put their child off to someone else or only have Clarke caring for their son, no. They’re parents and that’s what they are going to be. 

Even in her exhaustion, Clarke smiles at the thought.

~

A feast is held two weeks after the arrival of the prince and everyone comes to pay their respects. So many people cooing and smiling, and not one of them is able to claim that Rowan isn’t Bellamy’s son. There’s always a question when an heir is born, whether or not the baby was switched or if the wife may have cheated, but Clarke would never betray Bellamy in any sense, especially that one, and Rowan looks like his father. Which is exactly what Clarke wanted. 

Apparently Bellamy’s father had the same black, curly hair and dark skin that looked tanned and golden. According to Aurora her family looks seemed to disappear when it came to having Bellamy, but his eyes were a little lighter than his father’s and closer to hers. Now, Rowan has her eyes while the rest is the spitting image of his father.

Bellamy picks up their son from his cradle and holds him in his arms as he talks to Lincoln, and Clarke’s fingers itch for something to draw with. Of course, she has time to do this, but she can’t help but love the way her husband looks, all bright smiles and crinkling eyes as their son gurgles up at him. It’s heartwarming and beautiful and Clarke wonders how her life could be this amazing. 

Then, that night, Clarke walks around their bedroom while holding Rowan, singing softly to him to try and lull him to sleep. She doesn't notice the door opening or Bellamy slipping inside after having spent some time talking with some of the men from the neighboring countries that paid a visit, or the way he smiles as he watches his wife take care of their son. But when she turns around, a bright blush appears on her cheeks for having been watched, she can see her excitement reflected back at her. Of course, they've both been very tired lately and they know it's only the beginning, but they're happy. Truly, completely happy.

And it's the best thing she could have ever asked for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cutest parents tbh
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I’m sorry I’ve been gone! I hope you’re all doing well <3

Even though the first few months of Rowan’s birth were rough, with both Clarke and Bellamy becoming slightly more annoyed with each other and more prone to getting frustrated, Clarke couldn’t deny that having a son made them both beyond happy. Waking up most mornings she would open her eyes to see Bellamy already looking out the window with Rowan in his arms, pointing out various places and talking softly to him. Of course, her husband knew that their son couldn’t understand anything his father was saying, but it was still a sight to see.

Then Bellamy would stay until Clarke was finished feeding Rowan and they had breakfast, then he would meet Kane and the rest of his men to tend to the things within the kingdom. Which didn’t exactly keep Bellamy from slipping away or Clarke from showing up with Rowan in her arms. But, for the most part, when Bellamy is otherwise busy, Clarke and Rowan spend time with Octavia and Aurora, all three of them cooing and smiling at the new little prince.

However, Clarke should have known that everything great will ultimately come to an end. She just didn’t think it would be so soon. Then, nearly to the day of Rowan’s birth a year later, Clarke is standing in front of Bellamy with Rowan as her husband prepares to get to work for the day, when Bellamy turns and looks out of the window. His eyebrows furrow together and his lips press into a thin line, and Clarke follows his gaze to a ship that’s docking in the harbor.

“Are you expecting news?” Clarke asks, turning back to look at him, and Bellamy takes a deep breath before sighing.

“I’m always expecting news.”

He presses a kiss to her temple and then her lips before kissing the top of Rowan’s head, and he gives her a tight smile before turning and walking towards their bedroom door. She watches him go, wondering what could be happening, and then she looks out of the window again. The sails are ones she hasn’t seen before and there are armored men walking off the ship and onto the dock.

_ Who are they? _

This time, Clarke’s lips press together and she moves towards the bed. Rowan still needs to be dressed before she can go to the throne room, and it takes a moment to wrestle a squirming baby into their clothes. Any other day he only wears a diaper, but not in front of guests. As she works, wrapping him up in a white cloth and tying it with a blue rope, much like the one her husband is wearing, Clarke wonders what this could be about. If she were home she’d probably stay in her room until her father called for her or she went to ask him what was going on, but not now. 

She picks Rowan up, settling him on her hip, and then turns towards the door. Clarke straightens her back, taking a moment to look at Rowan and make sure he’s presentable, though everyone learned very early on that he would have his father’s completely unruly hair, and then she opens the door. She’s the queen of Ithaca, and she wants to know what’s going on.

As she walks through the halls, different things come to mind. She’s never seen the ships before but she doesn’t know if Bellamy has. With how he acted she knows that he must have been waiting for  _ something _ , even though it wasn’t good.  _ He hasn’t tried to take over any other country and our trading partners don’t have any reason to turn against him, though those weren’t their sails... _ Rowan gurgles in her arms and reaches up to grab at her hair, but Clarke catches his hand and kisses his little fist as she turns the corner. She can see the doors to the throne room and that they’re closed, and as she nears them Octavia comes from the other side.

The two of them look at each other, and it’s clear from the princess’s face that she doesn’t know what’s going on, either. They meet at the doors with both of them pushing the doors open, and Clarke takes in the scene in front of her. There are about half a dozen men dressed in armor standing in front of Bellamy’s throne and Bellamy is sitting before them, his gold leaf crown atop his head. His dark eyes move to where Clarke and Octavia are, his expression unreadable.

“Your majesty. Your highness.” All of the men bow as the two of them make their way to the platform, and Octavia takes Rowan as Clarke moves to stand beside her husband’s throne.

“Your majesty,” one of the men says, looking at Clarke, “it is a pleasure to meet you, but I wish it was under better circumstances.” He looks from her to Bellamy and back again. “Your cousin, Josephine, has been taken to Troy.”

“What do you mean she’s been  _ taken _ ?” Clarke says, her voice growing harder, and the man shifts on his feet.

“Your cousin has been kidnapped by Prince Gabriel of Troy, your majesty, and we are here to ask your husband to uphold his word.”

_ His word? _ Clarke turns to Bellamy, her mind reeling. He doesn’t look at her as he stands, drawing himself up to his full height as he looks down at the men in front of him. “I will be there.”

“You have a week to get your affairs in order, then we will meet you on the beaches of Troy.” The six men bow once again before turning and leaving the throne room, and Clarke can feel her blood begin to boil. 

Once the door closes behind them, Bellamy turns towards her, his lips pressed into a thin line like earlier and his eyes dark. “Clarke—”

“Will everyone else excuse us, please?” Her voice is low and leaves no room for argument as the others begin to leave the room, with Octavia taking Rowan out of one of the side doors, leaving Clarke and Bellamy standing in front of his throne as they look at each other.

“I have to go,” Bellamy says softly, and Clarke crosses her arms over her chest.

“No, you don’t. Josephine is a big girl, she doesn’t need the king of Ithaca riding to her rescue,” she huffs.

“Menelaus is going to wage a war to get her back, Clarke. I gave the men my word—”

“Your word means  _ nothing _ when it comes to Josephine, Bellamy. She wasn’t kidnapped, she’s doing this because it’s  _ fun _ .”

Bellamy’s eyebrows furrow together. “How can you think so little of her?”

_ What? _ Something inside of her feels like it’s been hit.  _ He looks like he cares for her. Why wouldn’t he, though? Everyone cares for Josephine. _

“Because I know her!” Clarke’s voice ricochets off the stone walls. “I know my cousin, Bellamy. Josephine doesn’t care about the lives of others and this war will only fuel her more. She revels in men falling at her feet and declaring their love and showering her in praises, and I know that she will not care about the lives that are lost to bring her home, only that there are men willing to die for her. And I don’t want my husband to die for a woman who couldn’t care less about the lives she’s endangered.”

“Clarke—”

“She left willingly with Gabriel. Despite what Menelaus may want to believe, she doesn’t care about him so of course she took the first opportunity she could to leave him. The walls of Troy are rumored to be impenetrable. If nothing else, Josephine knew it would make it harder for Menelaus to get her back.”

“I know that you’re not happy with this, Clarke, but I have to go—”

“ _ No, you don’t! _ You—”

“It was my idea!” Bellamy’s voice rises, not as much as Clarke’s had but enough to make her freeze.  _ He’s never yelled at me. Though, I know I shouldn’t have yelled at him, but _ — “I told you that I made a deal with your uncle. If I could get the other men to stop trying to kill each other at the competition then he would help me. I made them agree that no matter who won, the rest of us would be there to bring her back should anyone try to steal her. Now, someone has and I can’t back out of it. Not when it was my idea to begin with.” 

Clarke stands there, fighting against the tears that are threatening to escape as she looks up at her husband. Despite herself, she snorts. “Ironic then, isn’t it?” She says softly. “That the woman you didn’t want is now taking you away from the one you pledged yourself to.” Clarke shakes her head, losing the battle against her tears as a couple slip down her cheeks. Bellamy steps towards her but she takes a step back, forcing herself to look at him. “All our lives Josephine has been given everything she ever wanted, and just when I believe that I finally have something she could never take away from me, I’m proved wrong.”

“Clarke—” Bellamy begins, his eyes starting to shine, but Clarke only shakes her head again.

“I don’t want to hear it, Bellamy.”

And with that, she turns and starts towards the door Octavia walked out of with her nephew. She leaves Bellamy standing in front of his throne, not looking back to see the King of Ithaca beginning to cry, too.

She finds Octavia almost immediately. Her sister-in-law is tucked away in a little alcove near the door that leads to the throne room with Rowan bouncing in her lap, and the princess’s sharp green eyes turn to Clarke when she comes into view. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, and Clarke sniffles a little, reaching out to take her son’s hand in hers.

“There’s nothing to be done.”

“He doesn’t want to leave you,” Octavia says, leaning forward slightly, but Clarke doesn’t look at her. 

“I know.” The weight of what’s happened between her and Bellamy begins to settle within her, and it only makes her want to cry more. She reaches down and takes Rowan into her arms, cuddling him to her. 

She knows she shouldn’t have yelled at Bellamy and she understands the feeling of obligation he has, but that doesn’t mean she can accept it. She knows that she’ll have to, but she doesn’t want to.  _ Josephine... _ Clarke sighs inwardly, then she sniffles as she turns back to Octavia.

“I think I’m going to take Rowan on a walk,” she murmurs, and Octaiva nods.

“I’ll have the cooks prepare a plate of strawberries for when you get back.”

The small gesture makes Clarke want to cry even more, and she leans down and kisses the top of Octavia’s head before she turns and begins making her way towards the garden. 

~

Clarke needed to put Rowan down after their walk, but instead of putting him in his crib she laid him next to her in the bed. Now, she lays beside him, his little hand still wrapped around her finger as she watches him sleep. Her emotions are still a mess, and looking at her son only makes them worse.  _ How long will this war last?  _ She wonders, running her thumb over the tips of her son’s fingers.  _ How much of his life will he miss? _

Wars are ugly affairs and there is never any guarantee about when they will end. War changes people, and the thought of Bellamy changing makes Clarke's heart ache. Of course, people change with the seasons, growing older and wiser and the years beginning to show on their faces, but war is different. There is fighting and bloodshed and people die, but those who live are haunted by the things they’ve endured.  _ The idea of Bellamy being haunted _ …

The door to the room opens and Clarke looks up, watching as Bellamy slips through and closes it softly behind him. She turns back to their son as he nears the bed then climbs into it on the other side of Rowan. He props his head up in his hand, laying on his side, and Clarke bites the inside of her cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs after a moment, and Clarke looks up at him. His cheeks look a little pink and his hair is wild, as if he’s run his hands through it more than a couple of times in the past few hours. 

“I am, too,” she whispers back. “I shouldn’t have gotten so upset.” 

Bellamy reaches across Rowan, his hand coming to rest on her arm. “I understand, Clarke,” he says softly. “I must admit I was surprised when you raised your voice at me, but I understood.”

Clarke can feel more tears begin to prick her eyes and she looks back towards their son. “You always understand.”

“I try, at least.” Bellamy’s hand runs up and down her arm, the tips of his fingers causing bumps to form on her skin. Clarke looks up at him, the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes as she looks at him. “Clarke—”

“Can we take a nap?” She asks, her voice barely above a whisper, and she watches as the corner of Bellamy’s mouth turns up in a smile. 

“Of course, love.” He moves, propping himself up over Rowan, and Clarke tilts her face up to his as he leans down to give her a kiss. It’s soft, and sweet, and her heart aches as more tears form in her eyes and catch in her eyelashes, but Bellamy wipes them away with his thumb. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I know.” Clarke intertwines her fingers with Bellamy’s and then she turns her head and kisses his hand. 

Of course, she knows that he doesn’t want to leave her, and she knows that this war isn’t something he wants to experience, but it’s also the fact that he has to leave and neither of them know when he will be back. She heard the men earlier say that he would have a week to get his affairs in order before he leaves, but a week seems so short compared to years.

Clarke tries to push those thoughts out of her head as she looks at him, and she kisses his hand one more time before she settles back against the pillows. She looks at Bellamy, her eyes beginning to grow heavier now that he’s here with her and her hand doesn’t leave his as she curls a little more around Rowan.  _ He’s here _ . 

She can hear Bellamy take a deep breath—yawn, she realizes a moment later—and when she opens one of her eyes a little she notices his eyes are closed. If she was feeling up to it she would probably grab something to draw him with, but there’s a weight in her bones that pulls her closer to the mattress and her eyelids feel like they’re being weighed down by pebbles. It’s probably because of how much she’s cried in such a short amount of time and even though her nerves usually keep her from sleeping, she feels very tired right now. 

So, Clarke lets her eyes fall shut, but her hand stays wrapped around Bellamy’s. She realizes that it’s probably uncomfortable for him, but she doesn’t want to let him go. At least Bellamy doesn’t seem concerned with it, because he settles into the mattress, too, and then Clarke lets sleep sweep her away with her husband and son beside her. 

~

Over the next week, Clarke and Bellamy, along with the rest of their family, seem to move together. Clarke and Rowan are glued to Bellamy’s side, more often than naught with one of his arms being wrapped around Clarke or one of his hands holding hers while the other holds onto Rowan, and when they put Rowan down for a nap he rides out with Octavia. At night, they all sit around the table with Aurora having taken a place closer to her son, and they try not to talk about Bellamy leaving while simultaneously trying to organize everything. 

Now, Clarke is running her fingers through her newly brushed hair when the door to the room opens. She looks at Bellamy in the mirror, his face being illuminated by the candle light as the door clicks shut softly behind him. There’s a tray in his hands and she can see the strawberries, cherries, and grapes piled on it with two cups and a pitcher. Bellamy smiles softly at her, and even though Clarke returns it, it’s clear what tonight is.

Tonight is the last night they’ll be together. 

He walks towards the table that’s beside the bed and puts the tray down as Clarke moves to the bed and crawls onto it. Despite having been with him for a year, the way he looks at her still makes her heart accelerate and she can feel her cheeks begin to heat up. She leans back on her heels as Bellamy picks up the pitcher, and she watches him pour each of them a glass of wine. 

He hands her one of the cups, but he doesn’t let go of it until he leans forward and steals a kiss. 

“Are you tired?” He asks softly, his brown skin glowing in the candlelight. She looks at him, and her heart begins to race.

“Since when have I ever been tired with you standing in front of me, looking as amazing as you do?” 

Bellamy’s mouth turns up in a smile and he leans forward again, but this time Clarke is ready for the kiss and she wraps her free arm around his neck and lifts up off her heels, trying to bring him closer. Their kiss is soft, and slow, and warm, and even though neither of them know when they’ll be able to be like this again, they’re determined to make the most of it. 

The thought of him leaving causes a lump to form in Clarke’s throat and she starts to feel like she can’t breathe, but then Bellamy is there smiling at her and she tries to push it all away. She knows that she can’t be sad tonight, not when this is the only time they have before he gets on the boat, and when Bellamy wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her closer, she smiles against his lips. 

Even though the two of them have drinks in their hands, neither of them seem like drinking them so Clarke takes Bellamy’s from his hand and leans over, placing the two cups back on the table, but when she turns Bellamy wraps both of his arms around her and pulls her into him. She wraps her arms around his neck, tangling her hands in his hair, and Bellamy’s hand does the same as he licks into her mouth. 

“Mmm…” Clarke hums against his lips, running her tongue along his, and then he’s leaning her back and down towards the mattress and the pillows. 

His mouth moves from her to her neck, kissing her pulse point before sucking on it and Clarke runs her feet along his calves.  _ I’m going to miss this _ . But before they can get too far, Bellamy pulls back, leaving Clarke looking up at him, and she watches as he takes off his clothes, and she smiles as she lays her hands off to the side, silently telling him to undress her, too.

He does it slowly, and Clarke revels in the feeling of his hands gliding across her skin and his nails grazing her lightly, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. When she’s naked and laying before him, Bellamy holds out his hand and Clarke takes it, letting him pull her until she’s sitting up, and she raises an eyebrow at him. But Bellamy only smiles before he moves and climbs onto the bed behind her. 

His legs come to rest on either side of her, much like their first night together and a lot of nights since then, and Clarke smiles as she leans back into his chest. She loves laying with him like this and feeling his body against her back, and Bellamy’s hands move over her arms and towards her legs, and Clarke’s body hums with anticipation.

“I need you to do something for me, love,” he whispers against her skin, and Clarke bites at her bottom lip.

“Hm?” It’s like she can already imagine his hands on her body and how they’ll feel, and the way he’ll make  _ her _ feel—

“Touch yourself for me.” 

His voice is still soft, but every nerve in Clarke’s body starts at the words and she fights the urge to look back at him. “What?”  _ I haven’t done that. _

“I want you to touch yourself for me,” he whispers again. “If I’m going to be gone, I’d like to know that my wife isn’t left wanting.”

“I’ll always be wanting,” Clarke answers instantly, “for as long as you’re gone.”

Bellamy nuzzles the side of her head at her temple, and Clarke shivers. “I know, but I would like to know that you can at least satisfy yourself.”

His hand comes to rest over the one that’s on her stomach and then he guides it down and towards her center. Clarke wants to lift her hips and have him touch her, but then his hand is gone and hers is the only one left playing with her curls. “Bellamy—”

“Mimic how I touch you, love,” he murmurs, and Clarke’s eyelids begin to droop as she thinks about it. “What do I do? Where do I touch? How much…”

He trails off as Clarke’s mind begins to reel, and the tips of her fingers begin to touch her clit. It feels different, foreign almost, since she’s never done this herself, but Bellamy’s breath is hot against her skin and his chest is warm against her back. She catches her bottom lip between her teeth again as her fingers move, and then she sinks against him even more.

Again, it feels foregin, like she shouldn’t be doing this, but Bellamy hums from behind her and she tries to let herself relax. He wants to help her learn what to do, so she’s willing to do what he wants. Even though she would never touch herself when she knows he could do it. 

Clarke thinks about what Bellamy does, how he touches her slowly and runs his fingers through her folds once, then twice, before pressing against her clit and rubbing slow circles. She tries to mimic it, moving her fingers along the same path, and then her right hand moves to where it’s below her breast how Bellamy’s usually is. She tries to let herself get swept up in the feeling, and she finds that it feels good. Of course, it’s not as good as the way Bellamy makes her feel, but there’s something building as she presses a finger into herself...

Clarke opens her eyes, and she looks at where Bellamy’s hands are resting on his knees. She climbs higher and higher. “Bell, touch me.”

She watches as Bellamy’s hands grip his knees tighter, but he doesn’t move to touch her, instead he kisses the shell of her ear. “Not yet.”

“Mnh…” Clarke presses her back into his chest even more, trying to feel him as much as she can, but she can definitely feel his dick pressing into her lower back. 

She thinks about it all and the more she does the more she careens towards the edge, and then Bellamy’s hair against her temples and his breath on her bare neck and exposed chest pushes her over and she comes with a soft moan. Her muscles clenches and her walls spasm around her fingers, but she can’t bring herself to work through the orgasm like he does. Bellamy’s arms come around her then, and Clarke melts into him.

“How did that feel?” He asks after a moment, pressing a kiss to her cheek, and Clarke hums.

“It was different,” she whispers, and Bellamy begins to run his hands over her. 

He grazes his hands over her sides, runs them over stomach, and instinctually Clarke lifts her hips. She can feel him smile against her skin. She doesn’t have to say anything for him to move his hand down further and he cups her center before running one of his fingers through her folds.

Clarke mewls at the feeling and lifts her hips up, and his other hand comes up to cup her breast. “Need more?” He whispers, and Clarke shivers in her arms. 

He knows she needs more. They both need more. With tonight… “Please,” she murmurs, and in the blink of an eye Bellamy is on top of her and Clarke is wrapping her legs around his hips as her arms go around his neck. They look at each other, Bellamy’s arms bracketing her head, and she runs her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.  _ He’s breathtaking. _ His black hair, his beautiful freckles on his golden skin, the pink in his cheeks.

“Love me, Bell,” she whispers, and Bellamy lowers himself until his body is pressing into hers, and he kisses her. Deep and sweet.

They stay like that for a moment, just kissing each other with Clarke trying to memorize every movement his tongue makes and the way he feels pressed against her. She thinks about how his skin is soft and hard at the same time, and the feeling of his muscles moving, and the way his lips feel as they press against her neck. And when he pulls back to look at her, she tries to remember every detail of his face. Every freckle, every line, and the way his brown eyes shine in the candle light.

It’s all so much, and as they look at each other Clarke can feel a lump form in her throat and her eyes begin to burn with unshed tears.  _ He’s leaving me. Leaving us. He might not come back _ . She tries to push the thought away but there’s no use, and tears begin to slip down her cheeks as she looks up at him. 

Neither of them say anything, and Bellamy leans down, kissing one tear, then another, and Clarke brings him in for another kiss. She can taste the salt on his lips and the wine on his tongue, and she tries to pull him even closer. They kiss, just holding each other for a moment before Bellamy reaches between them and runs himself through her folds. 

Clarke gasps when he pushes into her, reveling in the feeling of him stretching her out and trying to remember that, too. Clarke’s breath catches when he seats himself all the way inside of her, and then they stay there. The tears flow freely now and Bellamy doesn’t try to wipe them away as he leans down and kisses her. It reminds her of their first night together, and how soft he was then—how soft he’s been since then—and she clenches around him as she tries to fuse their bodies together.

He pulls out slowly then moves back the same way, pressing himself as far as he can into her, and Clarke’s grip on his hair tightens. “Bellamy,” she sobs softly, and his lips are on hers again.

“Shh…” He rubs his nose against hers. “Be with me now,” he murmurs. “Tomorrow we will face what’s to come but, tonight, it’s just us.”

Clarke nods her head, swallowing around the lump in her throat as she opens her eyes to look at him. “Just us,” she echoes, and she tilts her head up for another kiss.

Bellamy’s arms move under her, with one wrapping around her shoulders and the other cradling the back of her head, and Clarke hooks her ankles together, even though she knows it restricts Bellamy’s range of motion. They hold each other as he rocks into her, slow and deep and not desperate how she imagined it would be. It’s filled with love and Clarke’s heart soars at the way Bellamy cherishes her. 

“I love you, Bellamy,” she whispers when he buries his face in her neck, and he kisses it before moving to kiss her.

“I love you, too, Clarke.” He kisses her again, and again, until Clarke doesn’t want to let him go and holds him there with her tongue in his mouth.

It’s when Bellamy reaches down and squeezes her ass before running his hand up her thigh and towards her knee that Clarke’s soft pants and moans grow louder, and Bellamy hikes her leg up higher on his hip, hitting that spot inside of her she didn’t realize existed until he came along.

“That’s it, love,” Bellamy pants, and Clarke’s heart melts at the look on his face and the way his curls stick to his temples and how his eyes take in her entire face… “Come for me, Clarke.”

“Come with me,” she responds, her voice high and breathy and the way only Bellamy can make it, and he moans into her mouth as he kisses her again.

Clarke clenches around him, loving the way he completely consumes her as she comes for a second time, but now her legs shake and her muscles clench and more tears roll down her cheeks from the intensity of it all. Bellamy moans again as he spills inside of her and Clarke gasps against his mouth as she tightens her legs around him.

_ This is what I want to remember _ . She wants to remember what it feels like to have his body on top of hers and the way he always buries his face in her neck as they come down, and the feeling of his breath fanning out across her chest as he plays with her hair.  _ This _ is what knows she’ll hold onto when she’s lying in bed alone, and she wonders if he’ll do the same.

Eventually, Bellamy has to pull out of her and Clarke pouts when he disappears from between her legs, but then he’s pulling her close and Clarke is content to just curl into his chest and hold onto him.  _ Maybe he won’t leave if I hold on tight enough _ . More tears fill her eyes as she thinks about it, but no matter how much she tries to push it away, there’s no use. 

Now, she cries, and her sobs are muffled by her husband's bare chest. Bellamy doesn’t say anything as he holds her, his hand either running through her hair or massaging her scalp, and Clarke clutches him hard.  _ I’m a queen _ , she tries to remind herself,  _ queens do not cry like this _ . Not once did she see her mother cry but, now, Clarke can’t seem to stop. 

She thinks about Rowan and how Bellamy will miss his firsts.  _ He hasn’t even begun talking yet. Or walking. And then he’s going to get his first teeth _ —Her mind drifts to Aurora and how she’s already lost a husband, so what if she were to lose a son, too? Her last connection to the King, and then  _ Octavia _ —Clarke’s heart feels like it’s being broken into a million pieces.

She cries and cries until all that’s left is a sore throat and swollen eyes, and when she pulls back to look at Bellamy she sees tears in his eyes, too. It makes her heart break even more. She reaches up to cup the side of his face, her thumb wipinging away a couple of his tears, and he leans forward and presses a kiss to her forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke chokes out, “I know this isn’t how you wanted this night to go—”

“Don’t apologize, Clarke,” he whispers, his voice rough. “I would be more concerned if you didn’t cry.” Clarke sniffles as she leans back to look at him again. “I don’t want to leave you.” More tears begin to shine in his eyes, and Clarke leans forward, giving him a soft, tear-stained kiss.

“I know.”

They fall asleep with their bodies pressed together and their arms wrapped around one another. Even when Clarke can feel her arm beginning to go numb she doesn’t take it away, hoping to have every moment she can with her husband in her arms.

~

The sun rises, voices call for items and people, and boats are loaded at the docks as the king and queen of Ithaca get ready for the king’s departure. A lot of her tears were cried the night before, but as Clarke fastens Bellamy’s armor around him, she blinks away more that threaten to roll down her cheeks as she puts his breast plate on him.

Rowan gurgles in the crib behind them, and when Bellamy’s armor is finished, he walks towards Rowan’s crib as Clarke moves to grab his helmet. When she turns, she watches as Bellamy lifts their sun out of his crib and holds him close, and Rowan captures his father’s face between his hands, almost seeming to pat it a little.

Rowan giggles, and it makes Clarke’s heart lift and feel as if it’s being stabbed as she sidles up beside the two of them.  _ They look so alike _ . She looks towards her mirror, seeing their reflections in it.  _ Rowan will always be able to see what his father looks like when he looks at himself.  _

“Papa.”

Clarke’s eyes whip towards her son that’s still giggling and her husband’s wide-eyes. Rowan continues to pat his father’s face as Bellamy stares at him, and Clarke watches as his throat bobs. Bellamy presses a kiss to his son’s cheek, his jaw clenching when he pulls back, and then he looks over at Clarke and hands her Rowan as he takes his helmet.

He looks at the two of them for a moment, and Clarke lifts her chin a little before Bellamy reaches out and wraps an arm around her waist. “I love you more than anything else in this world. Both of you,” Bellamy whispers, and Clarke smiles softly at him.

“I believe we love you more,” she teases, and Bellamy chuckles a little as he leans in to give her a kiss. Then he presses a kiss to their son’s head.

“I’ll always come back to you.” His eyes are dark, sincere, and Clarke tries to commit his face to memory one more time.

“I know,” she murmurs, and Bellamy gives her one more kiss before he puts on his helmet. 

She watches as he leaves the room, knowing that he needs to go talk to his men before they board the ship, and then she turns her attention to Rowan. “We need to go see your papa off.”

“Papa,” Rowan says, smiling, and more tears threaten to slip down her cheeks as she moves towards the door, too.

~

The docks are packed with people wanting to see their King and the soldiers off, with some women crying but many cheering for their victory. Clarke stands beside Octavia who is between her and her parents, and the four of them look to where Bellamy is leading his soldiers down the cobblestone path and towards the ships.

In his armor and with his helmet on, he looks menacing and much different from the man that held her the night before but, even so, Clarke can’t help but to find him absolutely breathtaking. The way his muscles move and the set of his lips...When he nears them his eyes find hers, and Clarke smiles as much as she can as she lifts Rowan’s hand to wave bye to him. If she could, she would throw herself into his arms and ask for one more kiss, but this is a ceremonial walk for them and neither she or Bellamy can go against that.

There’s a slight tilt to his lips as he looks at her, and his lips move in a way that’s almost imperceptible, but she knows what it is all the same. She loves him, too.

He leads his men onto the ship and none of them turn to wave goodbye as they begin to move towards the open water. The crowd waits and watches until their people are far enough to not hear their cheers, but instead of heading back to the castle with the others, Clarke walks towards the end of the pier with Rowan in her arms and then Octavia appears by her side. Clarke reaches out, taking her sister’s hand, and that’s how they stay. Watching the ship sail towards the horizon.

Now, Clarke has a kingdom to run. Even if she does feel like half of her has been ripped away and placed on a ship to sail away from her until it falls off the edge of the world. Her son wiggles in her arms and Clarke looks down at him for a moment before pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

Once the sun sets, Octavia and Clarke walk back towards the castle, hand in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now let me go cry
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we've had Clarke being completely gone for Bellamy, but what about Bellamy being completely gone for Clarke?

Bellamy’s eyes never leave the place where he knows his family is standing as his ship sails away. If he tries hard enough, he could swear he can just make out Clarke’s bright blonde hair standing amongst the crowd of colorful clothes. _I’ll come back to you_ , he tries to tell her, even though he knows she can’t hear his thoughts. 

A lump rises in his throat but he swallows it down. This is not the first time he’s gone to war, but this is the first time he’s leaving behind a wife and child with no idea of when he’ll return. He knows he will, but not _when_. And time, as he’s learned, does not wait for anyone. Not even those who wish they had more of it. _At least I got to hear Rowan’s voice_. 

_“Papa.”_

Bellamy takes a deep breath and pulls his shoulders back, still staring at the place where he left his family. He wonders if Clarke stayed to watch him go or if she returned to the castle once she couldn’t see him anymore, but he would like to think they’re looking at each other. Even if the other doesn’t know it. 

It’s only when the pier disappears behind the horizon that Bellamy turns and begins to make his way towards the wheel. He trusts Murphy to be able to navigate towards Troy but, right now, he needs something to do. Thinking about his quarters reminds him of the day he brought Clarke home with him and he doesn’t want to relive it just yet.

“Tell me you haven’t brought us too far off course yet,” Bellamy jabs as he walks up the steps, and Murphy gives him a lazy look before turning to look back at the open water.

“I would be more worried about that from Jasper.”

“I haven’t done anything!” Jasper calls from the crow’s nest, and Bellamy crosses his arms over his chest as he looks out at the water, too. 

The sun is beginning to set, which could be both a blessing and a curse, and Bellamy’s mind begins to drift. Miller and Lincoln are still in Ithaca, after having promised Bellamy that they would protect his family, and while he’ll miss their companionship, he wouldn’t have chosen anyone else. His eyes drift over Monty, up to Jasper, then Riley, Atom, Mbege, Myles...all of the men he’s fought with on more than one occasion, following him into yet another war.

“I’ll take over,” Bellamy says after a moment, and Murphy gives the wheel to him without protest. 

This feels right, unlike the feeling of leaving his family. Before, when he was younger, he enjoyed being on the water and jumping from the deck into it. He tightens his hands around the wood, almost willing it to give him a splinter, and then he takes another deep breath, feeling the salty air cling to his lungs. There’s still a knot in his throat and his chest, but he pushes it out of his mind. 

Now, there is him, his men, and the sea, and that’s all he tries to think about.

~

When Bellamy finally makes his way into his captain’s quarters, he feels like he’s been thrust back to that day nearly a year and a half ago. He can remember how Clarke wasn’t feeling well and the way he couldn’t stop wondering if he should check on her, and how he wouldn’t let Monty put the strawberries together because he wanted to do it himself.

He takes a deep breath as he walks towards the bed, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he looks at it. He and Clarke have taken his boat a few times since that day, but now he’s to sail for over a week to reach a city he does not want to go to. 

As Bellamy lays down in the bed, he stares up at the ceiling, watching the moonlight dance across the dark wood and listening to the sounds of the ship breaking through the waves. He begins to wonder if Clarke is lying in bed, too, or if she’s walking around the castle with Rowan to try and get him to sleep. Their son has a habit of not wanting to sleep unless they’re moving, and Bellamy was excited to bring him out to sail, but he can’t do that now.

He then thinks about his mother, Octavia, and Kane. Wondering if Kane is holding his mother as she tries to be the strong woman he knows she is, and if Octavia stayed with them or if she went for a ride with Lincoln. _That_ thought pulls a small smile to Bellamy’s lips, though it does not get rid of the ache in his chest. _She thinks she’s clever, but anyone would be able to tell that she looks at Lincoln as though she’s in love with him_.

Bellamy and Clarke actually stayed awake one night talking about it, but remembering that night brings his mind back to his wife and child. He held Clarke all last night while her tears rolled down his chest and his mixed with the gold of her hair, both of them not willing to let the other go. He was already upset that he would have to leave her, but hearing Clarke so heartbroken ripped his heart out of his chest and shattered it into a million pieces. Bellamy looks out of the window to his right, hoping to catch a glimpse of the moon. 

_I’ve left my family behind to fight in a war I do not want to fight. And I’ve left my heart in Ithaca, too._

As he lays there, he thinks about the upcoming war. He knows how long affairs like these can last, but this one can’t last for too long. He’s going to make sure it doesn’t. He doesn’t know _how_ he’ll do that exactly, but he’ll figure out a way. He needs to get home to see his son grow up and to spend time with Clarke and the rest of his family. And hopefully have more children. _Gods_ does he want to have more children.

Deciding that he’s not going to be able to get to sleep, Bellamy rolls off his bed and makes his way towards his desk. Last night, he and Clarke didn’t talk much aside from him promising that he’ll come home and her telling him that she’ll be waiting for him, but it’s as he’s laying here that he realizes just how much he never told her. Of course, he’s praised her for her beauty and how good of a mother she is but he’s come to realize that he doesn’t know if he’s told her just how much she means to him. Or told his sister how much she means to him. Or his mother. Or Marcus.

Bellamy grabs a blank leather bound book that Octavia gifted him for the journey and pulls out his _kalamos_ and ink. He tries to form his thoughts and order them so as to not just spill everything that is inside of him onto the page, but as he does all he can think about is Clarke.

Her hair, her smile, her laugh...the way she speaks softly to their son when she assumes Bellamy is asleep, and how she blushes when he catches her drawing him. She even still blushes when he compliments her and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t one of the most beautiful things in the world. How he ever managed to have someone like her fall in love with him he has no idea. 

The day he first saw her, he wanted to walk up to her and kneel at her feet. He didn’t care about the competition or the fact that Josephine was supposedly the most beautiful girl in Graecia. To Bellamy, Josephine could have never compared to Clarke. _And to think, all her life that’s exactly what she’s gone through_. Over the past year and a half, Bellamy has done his best to show Clarke that there is nothing _lesser_ about her, despite what her cousin may have told her. If anything, rumors of Josephine’s beauty have been exaggerated. 

After a moment of thought, Bellamy turns his attention back to the book in front of him, dips his _kalamos_ in the ink, and then sets it to the page.

_To the most beautiful woman in all of Greece, Queen Clarke of Ithaca, I believe it would be an understatement to say that you’ve stolen my heart. You’ve enchanted me to the point of incoherent thought, which I now realize has kept me from telling you just how magnificent you are…_

Bellamy doesn’t pay attention to the passing time as he writes, he’s too enveloped in the words he’s writing to pay attention to anything, really. He pours his aching heart out onto the page, not caring about what someone would think if they were to read it. He’s written little notes for Clarke over their time together, and poems, left her flowers and tried to give her everything she could desire. Now, he realizes that what he’s writing he should have told her sooner, but his hope is that when he reaches land there could be a way for him to send news home. Or, at the very least, have something to give Clarke when he returns. 

He’s going to return, because he promised her he would, and the King of Ithaca does not break his promises.

~

Later that night, after he’s drunk the wine that Monty brought him, Bellamy finally feels like he wants to lay down. His hands are covered in ink and he sighs in relief when he stretches out on the bed. With everything he’s written, he can’t help but look over at the empty spot beside him. He can almost see Clarke laying there perfectly, nestled under the blanket while she sleeps away her pain. 

Once again, he remembers that first day. Though, now, he doesn’t stop himself from thinking about it. How her eyes lit up when she saw strawberries, and how she blushed when she thought she would upset him with how she ate, and then when she cried because she thought she had let him down again...but Bellamy smiles when he thinks about how quickly she turned from being sad to pouting at him when she believed he had lied to her. _She tried so hard to look angry, but it was adorable._

And then, _“I want you to touch me.”_

Her face turned nearly as red as the strawberries she had been eating, and Bellamy felt like he would die on the spot. She sounded so shy and embarrassed when she said it, but Bellamy couldn’t have imagined sweeter words coming out of her mouth. It was a first for both of them—the first of many firsts for the both of them actually—and when she curled into his side after she came, Bellamy wanted to tell her that he was hers for whatever she wanted. Whenever she wanted. But, he kept that to himself, and then she asked if she could help him.

He wanted to say yes. His body jumped at her words, spoken so softly, but he knew that there would be another time. He wanted to take care of her and do whatever he could to help her feel just a little bit better. He could wait if it meant she would be comfortable. And waiting was well worth it for when she touched him for the first time. 

Bellamy palms at himself, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he thinks about that first time she touched him. Right after she told him that she was pregnant. He felt like he was in a dream. Her correction at him calling her princess made his heart melt, but even with her confidence she still blushed when she tried to tell him that she wanted to touch him. _Gods, I’m such a lucky man_.

When he closes his eyes, Bellamy can see her on top of him, her blonde hair falling over her shoulders and the determined look in her eyes as she worked him. _My beautiful wife._ He tries to imagine that it’s her hand touching him now rather than his own, and he gets so caught up in the memory that he thrusts himself into his hand.

_Clarke._ It’s like he can hear her sigh as he presses into her, and feel her hands clutching to him as she gets used to him. All of the little sounds she makes, and all of them for him. 

_“Do you believe the story of Zeus forcing humanity to spend their lives searching for their other half?”_ She had asked him, and Bellamy can feel his heart swell for a second time as he remembers it. He gets closer and closer as he remembers that day, and it’s when Clarke whispers that she loves him that he spills into his hand.

Then, he lays on his bed, spent and breathing hard into the dark air as he tries to get it under control. Remembering that day brings a slight reprieve to the pain he’s been feeling, but when the pleasure disappears the ache in his chest seems worse than before. 

“I’ll come back to you,” he whispers into the air. 

Bellamy rolls onto his side, looking up at the moon that’s been half obscured by some clouds, and he sighs deeply, wondering if Clarke is looking at the moon, too.

~

The days seem long and even though the journey is easy, it feels like a year has passed on the eleventh day when he can finally see the shores of Troy. He’s more rested than he expected to be, but that will not last for long when the fighting begins. All of his men prepare for docking and Bellamy takes in the ships that he can see that have already arrived. 

_“I’ve met Prince Gabriel of Troy before,”_ Clarke told him one morning when they were getting ready. Bellamy had stopped what he was doing and looked over at her, watching her smile at him in her mirror. _“He’s a very nice man. Intelligent, too. I do not think he would have taken Josephine if she hadn’t convinced him.”_

Bellamy remembers walking towards her and resting his hands against the table in front of her, looking at her in the mirror. He asked her if he should be worried about Gabriel taking her, but she only laughed and told him that there was no other place she’d rather be.

He thinks about that conversation now, wondering if there might be a possibility of _convincing_ Prince Gabriel to give Josephine back, but the little voice in the back of his mind says that is probably unlikely. 

When they dock, men from the beach move towards them to help Bellamy and his men get their supplies from the boat, and Bellamy is about to jump down from the ship when a man appears before him. The guy holds out his hand and helps Bellamy down before he’s able to look at him fully, but the way the other man is staring at him makes Bellamy pause.

His skin is dark but in the setting sun Bellamy can see how intently the other man is staring at him. Almost as though he was waiting for him. 

“You’re King Bellamy of Ithaca. You’re married to Princess Clarke of Arkadia,” the man says, and Bellamy finds himself drawing back his shoulders.

“Yes, I am.” Bellamy narrows his eyes slightly, but the other guy only smirks.

“Is she still stubborn?”

“She has her moments.” _Who is he?_ _And why is he asking me about my wife?_ But the more Bellamy stares at him...

“My apologies, I’m Wells Jaha. Son—”

“Of Thelonious Jaha, King Jake’s advisor.” Bellamy nods his head. _Ah_. “Clarke talks very highly of you.”

Wells smiles, but Bellamy realizes that it isn’t as happy as it should be. “Probably better than I deserve.” The sound of some of the other men yelling catches their attention, and Wells nods towards the burning fires. “Come. We have food ready.”

Bellamy follows Wells to one of the larger fires and he takes in the sweet smell of roasting animals and wine. He wasn’t expecting to immediately have to talk to one of Clarke’s closest friends from when she was younger, but something in him convinces Bellamy that this is the best thing that could have happened. Clarke has told him stories of her time with Wells when they were children, and if Wells is here now then maybe he can tell Bellamy more and it will feel like Clarke is there with him.

He knows that as a king he shouldn’t be as concerned with leaving his family, since this is a time of wars and battles, but he can’t help it when he has a wife like his. 

Before long, Bellamy and his men are seated around another fire with food in their hands and more wine than they should be drinking, and Wells sits beside him on the sand with his arms resting across his knees. At another fire beside them, some of the men are laughing loudly at stories of their past pillaging, but Bellamy and the rest of his group are content to just talk amongst themselves. And get some sleep.

“How is she?” Wells asks after a long while, and even though Bellamy’s heart skips a beat for a moment, he still smiles a little.

“Still stubborn, as you’ve said,” Bellamy says as he takes a sip of his wine. “But she’s good. She came to live with me in Ithaca, and I believe it’s been good for her.”

“Yes, my father told me,” Wells says. “I hoped one day she would leave.”

“Why?”

“Why are we here?” Wells raises one of his eyebrows. “Josephine.”

_Right_. “I learned very quickly that the two of them were not as close as others made it seem.”

“ _That_ is an understatement,” Wells snorts. “I can’t imagine how she feels with you being here.”

“She definitely wasn’t happy,” Bellamy mumbles as he bites into his food again, and he can see Wells nod his head out of the corner of his eye.

The two of them don’t speak for a while and Bellamy takes it as time to think back on everything Clarke has told him about her lost best friend. The way she talked about Wells, Bellamy felt that any other man would have been jealous, but he understood. Everything she told him reminded Bellamy of his relationship with Octavia. It _sounded_ like they were brother and sister, and Bellamy knows that Clarke loved Wells as such. And then one day he left and never returned. She even cried the first time she said that to him, but as Bellamy held her he never thought that he would ever meet the one who broke his wife’s heart.

“Why did you never return to Arkadia?” Bellamy asks. Anger on his wife’s behalf and his want to protect her make his voice harder than he intended, but it gets his point across.

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t know what I would say to her?” Bellamy looks at Wells out of the corner of his eye. “When I went to fight in Aegae, I was wounded. I thought I was going to die and all I could think about was how I promised Clarke I would come back to Arkadia. Then, I was taken in by a girl who nursed me back to health.”

“You fell in love with her,” Bellamy surmises, and Wells nods his head.

“I fell in love with her, and it took so long for me to be healed that I assumed it would be better to stay away and just send word to my father that I was fine rather than travel all the way back home. Sasha had a family to take care of. Her father was sick, her mother dead, and she had two younger siblings that she needed to look after so I couldn’t ask her to come with me. So, I stayed.” Wells takes a deep breath. “If I had returned home, I would not have wanted to leave. I knew Clarke would have to marry soon and I knew I wouldn’t sit by as a stranger married her and could possibly hurt her.”

Bellamy smiles then, ducking his head before bringing his skin of wine up to drink it. _I believe it_. 

“Clarke is the type of girl that men should go to war for,” Wells adds lowly, “not Josephine who couldn’t care less about the lives she’s endangered from her little stunt.”

“Don’t let Menelaus hear you say that,” Murphy chimes in from the other side of the fire. 

“I have a feeling if Menelaus cut Wells down he would have much bigger worries on his hands than trying to break into Troy,” Bellamy says with a smirk. “Clarke would be on the first ship out of Ithaca.”

“I think it would be Octavia,” Jasper says. “I mean, Queen Clarke can’t leave Rowan to fight her cousin’s husband.”

“Rowan?” Wells asks, looking between Bellamy and the rest of the men, and Bellamy smiles.

“Rowan Laertes Telemachus Blake. Our son.”

And with that, Wells grins, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that splitting them up had to be done but...I'm sad
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on...
> 
> Tumblr: xxawalkinwonderlandxx  
> Twitter: awalknwonderlnd


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